


18 Going On 11

by evannmkl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: not a time travel fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evannmkl/pseuds/evannmkl
Summary: Summary: Peter is a regular college student, enjoying a semester abroad in New York with his best mate. His world is turned upside down when a bizarre group of people come to offer him a place at a strange school for magic. After the battle, it took the Ministry a while to realize that there were fewer and fewer muggle born students starting at Hogwarts. Finally, they discovered that the Death Eaters had disabled the spells they had in place to recognize muggle borns. But, it's never too late to learn, right? Post Hogwarts. Golden Trio all grown up, some teaching at Hogwarts.Inspiration: Last Christmas, my husband and I were watching Elf. We were specifically watching the scene where Buddy is in school with all the elves. If you're not familiar, Google "Elf school scene". Anyway, we laughed for ages about what it would be like if there was a mistake and a First Year at Hogwarts ended up being like 18 or 20 instead of 11. It was actually my first fanfic I ever started. This one isn't finished but it was a way for me to enjoy imagining the answers to all the "Why the fuck don't they _" questions I've always had reading the books.Updates? Sporadically
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I don't own Harry Potter. I just de-stress by writing about it.

* * *

**My Inspiration:**

Last Christmas, my husband and I were watching Elf. We were specifically watching the scene where Buddy is in school with all the elves. If you're not familiar, Google "Elf school scene". Anyway, we laughed for ages about what it would be like if there was a mistake and a First Year at Hogwarts ended up being like 18 or 20 instead of 11. I started jotting things down and writing bits and pieces as I was stressed and overwhelmed. It was actually my first fanfic I ever started. I have a few other fanfic projects in the works (including "Group Therapy, published on FFN and AO3). This one isn't finished but it was a way for me to enjoy imagining the answers to all the "Why the fuck don't they _" questions I've always had reading the books.

**Summary:**

Peter is a regular college student, enjoying a semester abroad in New York with his best mate. His world is turned upside down when a bizarre group of people come to offer him a place at a strange school for magic. After the battle, it took the Ministry a while to realize that there were fewer and fewer muggle born students starting at Hogwarts. Finally, they discovered that the Death Eaters had disabled the spells they had in place to recognize muggle borns. But, it's never too late to learn, right? Post Hogwarts. Golden Trio all grown up, some teaching at Hogwarts. Generally light hearted. Mostly just my musings. Mostly from the perspective of an original character. Some perspective from Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and McGonagall.

**Update Schedule:**

Honestly? I don't know how often I'll update this. It started as a way for me to procrastinate my day to day responsibilities. I have lots of ideas but I'm currently focused on finishing my other piece "Group Therapy.

Hope you enjoy 3

* * *

**Chapter 1: Punk'd**

**Peter**

**Thursday, August 4, 2016**

Peter heard the shower shut off and the curtain yanked to the side noisily. The vanity door smashed. A thundering tumble followed by "Bullocks."

His roommate had been replaced with an elephant. That was the only explanation for the amount of noise coming from the bathroom.

He thought to call out and tell him to shut up but that would require too much energy. God bless blackout blinds.

A blinding light assaulted him as someone flung the door open and someone cheerfully sang, "Wake up mate! It's a beautiful day!"

"Unnnnnggggh"

"Seriously it's half past. You told me to make sure you're up."

Peter refused to open his eyes. His head pounded. He had the uncomfortable feeling that comes from passing out suddenly in an awkward position and then not moving at all for about 12 hours. Plus, he was wearing jeans. Never a good sign.

He rationalized that if he never opened his eyes, he could ignore the impending hangover forever.

"Five more minutes"

He considered the events of the evening before and shook his head at himself. Never mix beer and fireball. It had been a good party - a celebration with all of their friends to wish he and Sean farewell before they went back to Cambridge. It wasn't just in the movies – Americans really did know how to party.

Sean busted back in hastily with a glass of water, a slice of pizza that looked like it had been out all night, and a couple Tylenol.

"Come on Pete. Now you've only got twenty and I gotta go. Your mum will kill me if I let you sleep through your interview."

Reluctantly he sat up. He eyed the pizza and decided he would probably never eat again.

"Yeah yeah I'm up."

"Good one last night right?" said Sean waggling his eyebrows.

"Yup one for the memoir for sure," Peter muttered. "Is there anything else to eat?" He looked at the pizza and cold cheese distrustingly.

"Nah. I'll bring you back a donut though! Tiffany can't resist me. Good luck! See ya!" The front door slammed.

Grumbling he stumbled to the bathroom. There wasn't time for a shower at the pace he was moving. He settled for a splash of water on his face and through his hair. He assessed his reflection. He'd hoped the summer would make him tanner but he just got more freckles. All tan and blonde, Sean looked like a surfer. Peter just looked like pale and like the bad pop-culture characterization of an English ginger.

He glanced at the clock. He pulled on a button-up, slacks, and some dress shoes and headed for the living room in their two bedroom apartment.

He looked around the small room thoughtfully. Almost everything was already packed. It's not like they had brought or bought much. It was bloody expensive to ship something back to England. But this had been a fun home for them over the past eight months during their exchange program.

He checked the clock. Two minutes to go. Not bad for the worst hangover of his life.

He'd gotten a call from his Cambridge advisor yesterday, that the headmaster from some obscure university back home had taken an interest in his qualifications and wanted to offer him a position at their school. He was quite happy to be attending Cambridge, but out of respect, he'd agreed. His advisor had practically begged him to agree to the meeting saying that the headmistress was an old friend of his. But he'd never really gone into specifics as to how they'd met, brushing off all of Peter's questions. He hoped this lady would be on time. He still had to pack his whole room and fill out some paperwork. Plus die from alcohol poisoning.

At 11:00 on the dot, the buzzer rang and a woman in a Scottish accent announced herself as Professor McGonagall and he let her up. A few minutes later he heard her at the door and he opened it.

His mouth fucking fell open.

He was not faced with the two professors he had expected, but with five very strange looking people. Well, really three of them seemed normal, but other two were strange enough to contaminate the whole bunch.

An older woman with the a stern expression that instantly made him feel guilty about not showering. She wore an old fashioned but polished suit and the tightest bun he'd ever seen in his life. She smiled at him with an expression that was supposed to be warm but it just made him feel like he'd been caught goofing off in class. She kept glaring over her shoulder at the two in the back.

A man in his 30s, Peter guessed, was wearing slacks and a sweater with black hair and glasses. He looked friendly but slightly stressed.

A very pretty black girl who looked to be about his age. She looked at him kindly and peered curiously into the apartment.

A tall man, also likely in his 30s, had flaming red hair and was wearing the brightest purple sweater he'd ever seen. It had bright green writing on it. It appeared to have three Ws stamped on it in brilliant (and glittering) green. He was bobbing up and down to look over the older woman's shoulder, and positively beamed when he caught Peter's eye, nudging the black haired man in the ribs and muttering something excitedly in his ear.

And the fifth was the largest man Peter had ever laid eyes on. At least eight feet he thought, though logically it didn't make sense. And massive. Absurdly massive. Like cartoon sized. He had wild black hair and a beard and his black eyes twinkled at Peter in a way that made him feel as though they knew each other from long ago.

Peter blinked multiple times. He wondered suddenly if the Tylenol Sean had given him was something else. His mouth was still agape. He didn't know if he'd been standing at the door for a second or an hour.

"Mr. Davis, I presume." The older woman reached out a hand to shake his. He nodded. "Very well. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts School."

"Uh… er… Yes right. Please come in."

The strange group shuffled in. Well, four of them did. The large man had to do more of a squeeze.

"Please sit down. I'll, uh… grab some chairs from the kitchen." They only had a couch and one rickety chair in their living room. Most of the furniture had come with the apartment. He silently prayed the large one wouldn't sit and break anything.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Davis." McGonagall said curtly, stopping him in his tracks. "Those two," she spat," will stand. McGonagall, the girl, and the black-haired man sat on the sofa. The huge man and the red-haired man stood anxiously in the corner. She gave them a look that indicated they didn't deserve to be seated.

"Er… Right." Peter sat on the chair.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "I'm pleased to introduce Professor Harry Potter." He shook hands with the black-haired man. Aand Ms. Bonnie Reed." He shook hands with the girl. "Professor Potter currently teaches at Hogwarts and Ms. Reed attends the school. I've asked them here to discuss with you the opportunities we can offer you. Professor Hagrid and Mr. Weasley," she eyed the two in the corner shrewdly, "are simply accompanying us. Please excuse the surprise."

He nodded. Before he could stop himself he blurted out, "I'm sorry Professor, I'm not sure what Mr. Stevenson told you but I'm already enrolled at University and I'm very pleased with my program and advisors. I just-"

"That is all fine, Mr. Davis, "McGonagall interrupted, "You are under no obligation. We simply recently discovered that your qualifications match our requirements and wanted to present you with another option."

"Uh, okay yes, very well. I guess… Can you tell me more about your school?"

McGonagall took a deep breath. She looked nervous suddenly. "Mr. Davis. I have been a professor for many years. I have had this conversation hundreds of times and for the first time, I am not sure where to begin. However, I think it would be best to get the most shocking part out of the way so that we can get on with your questions." she flitted a look at Bonnie who nodded solemnly. "Hogwarts is a school for individuals with special talents. Magical abilities. You have magical abilities and we would like to offer you a place at our school where we will teach you how to harness those abilities and become a part of the witch and wizarding world."

He gaped again. She had said it all very quickly. She'd said it all as though it was actual fact and not total bullocks. He looked around all five parties. They did not look at all like she had said something shocking. He waited. No one said anything. Finally he laughed.

"Ha! That's a good one. How did Sean find you lot? I knew I shouldn't have told him I used to have a magic kit when I was a kid."

Silence. No one laughed. In fact the two in the corner had looked confused when he mentioned a magic kit.

"Mr. Davis," McGonagall said slowly, "This is not a joke. The Ministry of Magic recently discovered things in your background that point to you having magical abilities. We would normally have reached out to you many years ago but it has been difficult to pinpoint these things since…" She looked off far in the distance and frowned sadly as though remembering something very painful.

"I mean, yeah. I'm bloody good at card tricks. I even had the hat that you can do the rabbit thing with. I mean obviously the kit didn't come with a real rabbit, I had to use a stuffed animal, but still. I was pretty good. But you're not seriously suggesting I leave my full ride at Cambridge so that I can go work kid's birthday parties or host a show in Vegas. I mean, yeah, it looks cool and all when you saw a lady in half and then put her back together but I just don't know if I really want to set my whole future on that kind of stuff. You know? I mean, no offense, obviously."

The two men in the corner looked baffled as though he had suddenly started speaking another language. Harry and Bonnie looked like they were going to laugh. Mcgonagall pursed her lips.

"Mr. Davis, Hogwarts is not a place where you will learn silly parlor tricks. It is where you will learn to harness the magical powers that you possess. Brewing potions, transfiguration, charms, everything you would need to live an everyday life in the magical world."

He laughed again.

Harry sighed and nodded at McGonagall. He pulled a wand of sorts out of his pocket and began to wave it around. First light and sparks shone out of it. An empty glass of water on the coffee table refilled itself. The boxes haphazardly stashed on the side of the wall taped themselves up and stacked themselves neatly.

He gaped. After a long moment he looked around up at the ceilings and stared at the door as though expecting someone else.

He rubbed his eyes.

"What, is Ashton Kutcher gonna come through the door now? Is this like some new Punk'd show?" After a beat he said louder "Sean, you can come out now, I'm not gonna fall for this one."

Only Bonnie looked like she registered anything familiar. She giggled.

McGonagall sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Davis. This is typically something we present to people at about 11 years old. Children are much more likely to understand then as their imaginations are so much more active and their sense of the world has not been set in stone."

Without asking permission, his mind simply disregarded this last sentence.

No one said anything. She continued.

"I understand that this is something quite shocking. But, if you'll allow, I'd like you to think of some times when things might have happened in our life that you couldn't explain. Maybe a situation where you were particularly scared, upset, or happy."

He said nothing.

For the first time, Bonnie spoke. "When I was nine Millie Brown was making fun of me for still having training wheels and said she would beat me up the hill and steal all my candy. I glared at her and her bike wheels went flat. Another time I levitated my hamster out of my cousin's reach when he was threatening to dye it blue."

"I set a snake loose on in the zoo once." Harry spoke, "Also I regrew my hair after my aunt shaved it off. And I blew my other aunt up into a balloon."

The red-haired man, Weasley, in the corner laughed, "Harry don't tell him that! He's just gonna think you're a violent murderer!" Peter felt like he had a point. "Harry's just overly pent up. For most of us it's little things like breaking glasses from across the room or moving something without touching it or fixing something that would be really embarrassing. You know, just little things like that."

Peter thought to himself. These people were crazy. Was it possible they were dangerous? They looked harmless enough. Except for the big bloke. He looked like he could do some damage. But again, the large man, Hagrid, was looking at him with watering eyes and a huge grin underneath his beard. Was he crying?

He wondered if he should make an excuse to go to his room and phone the police. He thought he could distract them for the ten or so minutes it would take for them to get there.

Bonnie seemed to be able to read his mind. "You know, when Professor came to tell me, I didn't believe her either. My parents were there and my dad ran to the phone to call the police. She made the phone dance in the air out of his reach until he would calm down." She laughed softly, clearly thinking back on the memory fondly.

"Look, Peter," Harry spoke again very softly this time, "I didn't believe it either. I had a very difficult childhood and when Hagrid came to tell me I was afraid it was a joke. I couldn't stand the thought of getting my hopes up and having to go back to that miserable life. But when I thought about it, it made sense. I had been having these weird accidents for as long as I could remember. They didn't make any sense to me, my aunt and uncle, or my teachers. They were all at a loss. That's how most mugg-" He took a breath, "That's how most people who are born into non-magical families find out. With Professor McGonagall coming to their homes when they're 11 years old and telling them that they have magical abilities. We just didn't know about you until a few weeks ago."

Hagrid sniffed loudly in the corner. Everyone turned to look at him. "I j-j-j-just can't believe how long it's been. I remember yeh sittin there in that shack and telling me there was a mistake. Yeh were so reluctant to believe it and look where yeh are now and everything ye've d-d-d-done." He blew his nose loudly into a handkerchief. This time, everyone was gaping. Harry and Hagrid locked eyes as though remembering something particularly nostalgic. Hagrid pulled a huge handkerchief out of one of his many pockets and noisily (and messily) blew his nose.

McGonagall stiffened and attempted to regain control of the conversation.

"Peter," she said calmly, using his first name for the first time, "What are you thinking about? Do you recall any events like this?"

He opened his mouth to shout absolutely fucking not, but a scene drifted to the forefront of his memory. He was 12 and in the bathroom at the dance. Cindy was waiting for him and he was petrified. Thomas was laughing at him as Carl splashed water on the front of his gray pants. He shoved them in a stall and it locked from the outside. His pants were suddenly dry.

Another time he was riding a skateboard. He was flying through the air. Impossibly, he landed on all fours, completely unscathed. The skateboard fell gently at his side.

He was nine. He unwrapped a salmon pink sweater with kittens on it from his grandmother. His mom made him wear it the next day. He struggled and cried. When his mother came back to the room it was green. The kittens were dinosaurs.

He was in the hardware store with his father. His father was shouting at another man to stop. Peter looked up. A huge piece of particle board was falling from the highest shelf. He closed his eyes, waiting for impact. When he opened them, he was standing in the middle of a circle surrounded by small pieces of wood.

He was in a scratchy rented tux. He was walking up to the door and heard Caroline telling her mother that she hoped the corsage wasn't a rose because that was so predictable. His heart sank, looking down at the rose corsage he'd purchased. But it wasn't a rose anymore. It was a sunflower that perfectly matched her dress perfectly even though he hadn't even asked what it looked like.

The more he thought about it, more strange things came to mind.

He looked up open mouthed at the group. McGonagall smiled pleasantly. Harry and Bonnie looked almost smug. Ron laughed sadly.

"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall scowled at him. "Well, Mr. Davis. Might you be starting to believe us?"

"I mean… Maybe… I don't know… It all sounds mad. But I guess, kind of?" He stammered. His head was starting to hurt. Was it the hangover or was it the fact that he was starting to associate with insane people?

"Well, very good then. I'll let you process and we'll tell you a little bit about how we've come to be here today."

He swallowed, not really knowing what to say, but thankful for the processing time all the same.

"The majority of the students that come to Hogwarts are from wizarding families, so they grow up knowing about our world. Some, though, come from muggle, or non-magic, families. We typically reach out to these students around their 11th birthday to explain about the magical world and invite them to Hogwarts. However—"

"Wait," he stuttered, "But I'm 18."

"Yes," she said, "If you'll allow me, I'll get to that." He nodded. "Years ago, the wizarding world in Europe was terrorized by an evil dark wizard and his followers. A very dangerous and deadly war ensued where they waged war on muggles and muggle born witches and wizards. Unfortunately, many died on both sides. It was a very dark time, but ultimately we were able to defeat the dark wizard and his followers." She gave a meaningful look to Potter and Weasley as Hagrid swelled with pride and sniffed loudly again.

"Why would they want to hurt non magic people?" He asked confused.

McGonagall sighed and rubbed her temples as though unable to properly articulate. "Well some people—"

Bonnie interrupted. "Like the KKK in America. Just more deadly. And they got really powerful and almost won." She nodded to the American civil rights movement book on the table. He'd been reading it for a class last semester. He understood.

"I guess people will always find something to discriminate for." He sighed somberly.

McGonagall smiled sadly at him. "Unfortunately, yes. However we are in a much brighter place now. There are absolutely no differences between witches and wizards born to muggles and those with a long line of magical parentage in terms of magical abilities. There are just some… who… some witches and wizards are somehow convinced those that are different are a threat."

He nodded. It sounded sadly familiar.

"In fact, my best student – arguably the best witch we've seen in this lifetime – is muggle born." She looked at Weasley sternly as though she did not approve of his life choices.

"As you can imagine," she continued, "after they were defeated we had a lot of rebuilding to do. They had infiltrated our government. We had magical systems in place to identify children born with magical abilities to muggle parents. We monitor them and then approach them at the age of 11. However, these systems were dismantled under the rule of Voldemort and his death eaters."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. "Er… what?"

"Lord Voldemort was the dark wizard who rose to power and his followers called themselves the Death Eaters." Potter answered plainly.

"The muggle born identification system wasn't the most pressing thing on anyone's mind as we began to rebuild, nor did our intelligence suggest it had been tempered with. It was years before we realized that there were fewer and fewer muggle-born students attending Hogwarts. After we identified the problem we worked diligently to identify students that had been missed. We developed a complicated spell to place on school records that identified patterns of unique behaviors and other characteristics that-"

"An algorithm." Bonnie supplied.

"Yes, wel,l this worked very well. We were able to identify the vast majority of muggle born students we had missed during the first few years after the war. However, there were a few that we missed. One of our analysts has been identifying new patterns and that's how we've found individuals like yourself and Ms. Reed." She smiled at the young witch. "We developed a special curriculum for these students so that they could learn the basics all while studying with students their age and at a level more appropriate to their maturity. Hogwarts students begin at age 11 and graduate at 17. Though there are private tutors who have been contracted by some of these students, we've had excellent success with what we call the Phoenix Program. Students in this program will take some classes with younger students in Years 1-4 and also take part in specialized training more suited to Years 5-7. The program is four years long as opposed to the typical seven years. We've found that older students can handle the increased rate of learning and take in more training than younger students so the curriculum can be condensed somewhat. We've also found that they are better able to control their magic so it takes less time to learn the fundamentals. After Hogwarts there are dozens of mastery programs and trade schools where your skills can be honed for a specific career. Hogwarts is a boarding school and we've created individual dormitories for older students where they can have more autonomy while still experiencing the community of the houses."

She said it all very fast as though it was common sense. She waved her wand and several pages of parchment appeared on the table. He could see that they outlined curriculum and subjects as well as a school supply list that included things as bizarre as a wand, cauldron, and strange ingredients.

"Uh huh." Peter said, silently adding _assuming I decide to believe any of this_. "And so you want me to attend this school?"

"Yes," said McGonagall, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is one of the foremost wizarding schools in the entire world if not the best." Her chest swelled with pride. "It would be an honor to have you attend and become a part of our world."

Peter got up and paced behind his chair. For several long moments no one said anything. McGonagall and Potter looked at him patiently. Bonnie picked up the civil rights book and read the back cover. Hagrid and Weasley followed his steps excitedly almost as if they couldn't stand the suspense.

He had a million questions. Several of them were for his subconscious which seemed to be laboring under the pretense that what they were saying was the truth.

"Why… How many… I mean…" He stammered, not sure what to ask first. Finally he decided to ask the least important question. "You said I was difficult to find? What I mean to say is why wasn't I identified earlier?"

"Yes, the system we have in place doesn't work as well when students attend multiple schools. It's hard to discover a pattern."

"Ah. Navy brat. We moved around a lot."

There was another uncomfortable silence. Peter had decided to stop counting them.

"So then how did you find me?"

From the corner Weasley almost shouted "Oh well my br-"

Potter held his hand up to stop him. He looked at Peter cautiously and said "What do you know about your parents?"

"My parents?" Peter was shocked. "You can't mean that Patty and John Davis, the most normal people on the planet, know anything… have anything to do with any of this."

Harry chuckled softly as though he knew them and understood a joke. "No, not them."

There was a long silence. And suddenly Peter understood.

"Oh, you mean that I'm adopted." He'd known this for as long as he could remember. His parents had always been open with that fact. Plus, once he'd taken biology he'd have figured it out. He had no resemblance to them and the red hair was not a gene he could have gotten from them.

Potter seemed to sigh in relief. "Yes. That makes this slightly easier. It recently came to our attention that a wizard in our world fathered a child and died in the war before being able to tell anyone about it. It seems your biological mother gave you up for adoption."

Peter didn't quite know how to feel. He'd always been mildly curious about his birth parents. Once he had reached out to the adoption agency is parents went through but they didn't have names on file for either the mother or father. It had been closed and he had decided that he didn't want to look into it any further.

"Was she… was my mother… magical too?"

"No. And it doesn't appear she knew about your father either. He was a strong supporter of our cause and we think he disappeared into hiding to protect her and you once things started to get very dangerous. Unfortunately he was killed before he could ever get back to her." McGonagall sighed sadly. "She likely thought he abandoned her. Anyway you were placed in foster care shortly after your birth and adopted soon after."

"…You mean, you don't know?" Peter asked hesitantly.

"She died several years ago. Cancer. Her sister recognized one of your birth father's family members about a year ago. They live nearby the muggle village where she lived." McGonagall said tentatively, testing the waters. When Peter didn't react she continued. "When we learned that they had a child together we immediately began searching. Children descending from a witch or wizard nearly always have magical abilities. Unfortunately, it was quite difficult."

Peter wasn't sure what to say. He noticed a slight pang that there was no way he would ever know his birth parents. But then again he'd long ago forgotten about even trying. He decided to push these thoughts and subsequent questions to the side for the time being.

"Er… why? Why did you have trouble 'finding' me?"

"The system that we developed requires patterns. We look for strange marks in school records, recommendations for therapy, excessive popularity or bullying… Usually those symptoms come along with the incidents we mentioned earlier." Potter explained. "But as you moved around so frequently, the system did not catch it. Ron has spent the past 7 months combing through adoption records through all of the Europe."

"And why would he take such an interest?" Peter was skeptical.

Potter studied him and looked to Weasley in the corner who was positively shaking with excitement now. Hagrid clapped him on the shoulder and his knees buckled. Potter sighed, resigned to the fact that it would have had to come to this eventually. "Because your birth father is his brother."


	2. Dinnay

Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter. I just de-stress by writing about it.

* * *

**Chapter 2:** **Dinnay**

**Peter**

A stunned silence.

"I… how… I mean what?" Peter looked at the man in the corner, making eye contact with him for the first time.

"Well George and I were at the pub. Mum had cut us off after we sliced up her new knitting patterns playing flying knives-"

Mcgonagall sighed exasperatedly. Potter smirked as though it was an excellent memory.

"—magically locked all the cabinets and placed wards so that we couldn't summon any more Butterbeer. But we fancied a buzz so we snuck out to the village. Three rounds in George got up to use the loo and this nutter of a lady swooped in and started yelling at me for what a scoundrel my brother was and deserting her sister and blah blah blah. I tried to run away but she chased me. George caught up and then the lady lost it and started hitting him upside the head with her bag. It was bloody hilarious, I wish everyone could have seen it. You should have heard all the stuff she called him. Ba-"

"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall exclaimed, "You are not even supposed to be here. Please get on with it before I portkey you straight back to Ms. Granger's office."

Weasley gulped fearfully as though he'd been caught stealing money from his parents. "Yes, well anyway, she kept beating him over the head and he swore he'd never seen her or anyone named Dolly before in his life. She started screaming about what kind of man doesn't even remember the name of a girl he's had in her bed. That's when we finally figured out what was going on. She called him Fred."

He looked at Peter as though this explained a great deal.

"Ron has-" Potter looked sadly at Weasley. "HAD identical twin brothers. George and Fred. Fred died in the war. When this woman saw him, she mistook George for Fred."

"Anyway after we were able to calm her down she invited us to her house to show us some pictures and told us about how she'd died. Apparently she'd been really upset when Fred disappeared. They were supposed to be married and everything but after he took off she decided to go traveling to forget about him."

"She must've had you while she was away." Potter said. "From what we can piece together at least. It doesn't seem like she ever told her family about you or Fred until right before she died. They tried to look for you but many adoption records are sealed and she didn't tell them where she had given birth. It would be too much for a muggle to do. But we were able to finally figure it out."

"But I was born in America." Peter said, unable to question anything that he'd just heard. It just seemed easier to point out a fact.

"Yes. We finally tracked her travels here to New York where you were born. Your parents adopted you shortly afterwards only days after they married."

He'd heard the story a thousand times. His father was American in the Navy. He'd rushed a buddy to the hospital after they got into a brawl at a bar. His mother was an English nurse. She was working in New York for six months for experience in a busy urban emergency room. She tended to his father's friend and they fell madly in love. They decided to elope. Days before his father's leave was up, his mother cared for a baby who'd been brought in for a high fever. She became entranced by the baby and upon finding out that he was in the foster system, they decided to adopt him.

"See, look!" Weasley held up a black and white photograph… that was moving. He shook his head to himself and decided to dwell on that later. For the second time that day, he blinked his eyes like a cartoon character, trying to understand what he was seeing. It was a large family. "That's mum and dad," In the middle, a balding man and a short portly woman. "And that's Charlie, Bill, and Percy. Charlie works with dragons and Bill works at the bank. Percy is at the Ministry again. He writes boring laws and stuff." He pointed to three men on the left. "Over there. That's me!" he pointed excitedly at the tallest member of the group on the right. "And that's my sister Ginny. She's the only girl but you don't want to mess with her. I think growing up with all of us created a monster. And that's Fred and George." He pointed to two laughing young men, each with a sweater with a "G" and "F" knitted on, respectively. "Fred is the one with the G jumper and George has the F. Mum almost murdered them after she got the portraits back and figured out they'd made the prank. They always liked to mess with her…"

Peter hadn't realized how close the man had gotten to him. He was waving the photo under his face smiling as though this solved everything.

"Mr. Weasley. Please give Mr. Davis some space. I'm sure that this is a lot for him to take in."

Understatement of the century, Peter thought.

Peter looked at the photograph (or whatever you could call it). He was an only child and didn't have any cousins. He'd always been jealous of his friends with big families. He recalled outings or sleepovers at friends houses where there was the happy chaos of too many heads under one roof. The buffer brother was smiling serenely as though he didn't have a care in the world. The one next to him with long hair winked at the camera. The one next to them with glasses looked annoyed and was standing and smiling without teeth very steadily. He was the only one in the picture that looked like he wasn't moving. On the right the twins were smiling and laughing so genuinely that he almost felt like he could hear the laughter. The only girl looked mischevious. The mother and father seemed nice. The father looked a little flustered as though he didn't quite know how to rein things back in. The mother's expression Peter recognized from his own mother. She looked so happy and loving. She looked like she was _trying_ to look annoyed at her children, but couldn't quite manage it. They looked like a nice bunch, he supposed.

Strangely, he found himself among them on Chrismas morning opening presents and playing with new toys and gadgets. He shook his head at the thought. These people were not his family. And yet… He looked at the Weasley man. He'd met his fair share of gingers. None of them had ever had hair as orange as his – until today. He also seemed to have the same amount of freckles. He thought, if he squinted, he could make out some familiar noses as well.

"We did one of your muggle dinnay tests." Weasley brandished an envelope under his nose. "You're definitely a Weasley."

"A… a what?"

"Dinnay! That's what Hermione told me it was called. Got one of your hairs from the barber shop."

"D-N-A!" Potter shook his head. His head was now in his hands and he grimaced as McGonagall shot Weasley an angry glare.

Trying not to feel violated at the thought, Peter stared agape at the man.

"Er. Right. Maybe it would have been better to leave that for later." Weasley rubbed his neck. Another understatement. "So whaddaya say?"

"About what?!" Peter started to hear a high pitched ringing in his ears. This was too much. "I'm not sure what you want me to say about… about anything."

"Obviously this is a lot to take in. There is a certain amount of adjustment we know you'll need. We wanted to meet you and explain the situation so that you can have some time to digest it and make a decision. Term starts on September 1. We anticipated this going a little soother. There is always some denial but the… the revelations about your parentage weren't something we had originally planned on announcing." Potter sent an annoyed look at Weasley who retreated to the corner again.

"So then why did you?" Peter again latched onto the important question out of the millions bouncing around in his head. "Why are all of you here?"

"Like I said," McGonagall cleared her throat decidedly, "I am the headmistress. I have been making these calls for many decades and am experienced with the kind of denial and questions that are typical. I like to bring along another student who in a similar position so that you can ask questions of someone who might have a similar perspective." She nodded at Bonnie. "Mr. Potter can also understand what it's like to learn that you are a wizard and that the things you knew about your family weren't entirely true. And as I said, he is a professor at the school as well." She turned to glare at the two in the corner. "As for Mr. Weasley, it seems that he found out about our trip and he and Mr. Hagrid decided to gate crash. They apparently felt that they had a right to be here because of their emotional proximity to Fred."

"Sorry professor" Ron shuffled awkwardly. "When I found out Harry was going to come here and meet him I just couldn't stand the thought of not being here. And Hagrid loved Fred so much and when he mentioned he had a contact in American Magical Transport I thought there wouldn't be any harm…"

"Yes, well Mr. Hagrid's nefarious contacts aside, I assume you can see now why this might have been a tad overwhelming for the boy." McGonagall and Ron seemed to have forgotten that Peter was there. He stopped listening for a few seconds (or hours).

Finally he decided he had enough courage to return to the conversation.

"…may not be my student anymore but I had thought a detention might be in order! But I daresay Ms. Granger will take matters into her own hands when she finds out." Ron looked horrified at the thought and muttered something about "those bloody birds" under his breath. Harry chuckled.

"So what is it you want me to do?" Peter interjected.

"Mr. Davis you have been very accommodating. As I've said multiple times I understand how overwhelmed you are. At this point I'd like to answer any questions you have."

Peter closed his eyes. Questions? Where would he start.

"Ms. Reed and myself are staying in New York for the night. We leave tomorrow afternoon and would be happy to meet you again tomorrow once you've had a chance to process things."

Peter looked at Bonnie. She smiled kindly with an understanding look.

"I… I think I might need a bit of a lie down anyway. I'm not feeling 100% today anyway."

Peter saw Harry's eyes dart to the corner where a garbage bin was overflowing with glass bottles and red plastic cups. He smirked.

"I understand." McGonagall stood up and smoothed her skirt. "Here is the phone number to our hotel. Please feel free to call any time. If you'd like to meet tomorrow, we are free until 2. Otherwise I will call on you when you get home."

"I'll be pretty busy tomorrow. We leave day after next."

"Very well then. I will phone you in England."

The others stood up and made their way to the door. Harry shook his hand. When Hagrid and Weasley made to do the same he shook his head.

Last out the door, Bonnie turned back and said "We passed a lovely café down the corner. Coco's. I thought I'd try it out tomorrow morning after my run. About 9. Just in case you change your mind." She gave him a kind smile and wink and shut the door.

Peter bolted the lock and sunk into couch. He noticed a leftover can of beer next to couch and went to toss it in bin. It was still half full. He shook his head and drained it. Hair of the dog after all…


	3. Some Things Never Change

Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter. I just de-stress by writing about it.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Some Things Never Change**

**Harry**

They barely made it to the elevator before McGonagall turned on Ron and Hagrid. She berated them ceaselessly the entire way back to the American ministry and sent them unceremoniously on their way to the portkey office where they would take one home.

"Bloody hell that woman is just as uptight as ever." Ron shook his head.

"Ah well she might've had a point. We probly came on a bit strong yeh know." Hagrid looked a little sheepish.

"At least it was just me! Gin and George will be furious when they find out I came without them!"

"YOU TOLD GINNY?" Harry turned on Ron.

"Er, well she found my files and I just didn't correct her."

"Well don't worry, when she finds out I knew and didn't tell her she'll murder me instead." Harry shuddered to himself at the thought of Ginny at home tapping her foot, just waiting for him to get home.

"Er… I didn't think of that…" Ron looked guilty again. "But she'll get over it. It's not every day you find out you have a nephew you didn't know existed!"

"Yeah well, I just hope he takes it okay. He looked pretty green towards the end there." Harry sighed at the thought of Peter. That was a lot to take in. He'd been on a few of these with McGonagall now. The Phoenix students were always harder to convince than the muggle-born 11 year olds.

"Ready?" a gruff woman called to them. They grasped the hubcap and jolted back to England.

. . .

"YOU COMPLETE IDIOT RONALD WEASLEY!"

Harry stumbled to the side. Porkeys were always disorienting but a journey that long made his legs feel like jelly. But he hadn't fallen down. He realized that he'd been pushed to the side and Hermione was towering over Ron who was backing against the wall terrified.

"Hermione… What are you doing—" Ron stuttered

"I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO ANGRY IN MY WHOLE LIFE"

"Well you look beautiful. Have you done something different to your hair?"

"OH DON'T EVEN TRY THAT WITH ME."

Ron sputtered something incomprehensible

"AN ILLEGAL INTERNATIONAL PORTKEY?! IT'S A SHAME IT DIDN'T KILL YOU BECAUSE IT WOULD SAVE ME THE TROUBLE-"

"Hermione…" Harry went to grab her arm which was furiously beating Ron's arms.

"DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?!" Harry was horrified that her anger turned on him now.

"No. They just showed up. You're on your own mate." He had considered trying to calm her down but decided that Ron was decidedly in this battle alone. He chuckled as Hermione dragged him out of the office not bothering to lower her voice as they stormed through the Ministry. Some things never change…

. . .

As he suspected, Harry arrived home to find Ginny sitting on the couch waiting for the door to open.

"Harry—"

"Ginny, I'm sorry, McGonagall asked me not to say anything. We decided it would be better to assess his feelings before telling the whole family. It was only supposed to be Ron and George who knew. At least until he'd agreed to go to Hogwarts and then we'd tell everybody."

"It's okay. I understand." Ginny looked a little hurt but definitely not angry. He sighed a breath of relief that he would not spend the evening making up to _his_ wife. He made a mental note to remind Ron to owl the florist tomorrow.

"I mean, I'm disappointed that I found out because of Ron's idiotic sense of privacy. But I understand. I don't think I could've kept it a secret and if Mum… If he decides… I couldn't do that to her." Ginny went to give Harry a hug.

"Yeah that's what Ron and George thought too." They sat down on the couch.

"Well… what's he like?" Ginny asked tentatively

Harry laughed, "Well he seems nice. He was pretty overwhelmed. I haven't seen anyone look that scared since… I don't know when. And Ron didn't help. He couldn't calm down and he showed him your last family portrait and decided to show him a genealogical test that McGonagall had done last month."

Ginny groaned. "He's such a git. It's only a matter of time until Mum finds out he and Hagrid used an illegal portkey to crash the meeting. She and Hermione will have to duel to see who gets to lay into him first.

Harry laughed. "Oh Hermione found out somehow and was there waiting to ambush him when we landed from the portkey. She dragged him all the way through the Ministry atrium by his collar yelling at him. He tried to distract her by complimenting her looks." Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you can imagine that didn't do much but annoy her further."

"Oh I would've paid to see that." Ginny smiled slightly. "Just like old times right?"

"Absolutely. I'll owl him tomorrow and remind him to send her flowers."

"Send the coupon I clipped out of the Prophet last week. He's so cheap he'll probably muddle it up more by picking out something stupid."

Harry chuckled in grateful agreement. He and Ron had never really gotten a hang of wooing witches. Somewhere along the line they must have missed that at Hogwarts. Though, he thought to himself, they did keep themselves pretty busy those six years. Still, he liked to think he was a bit less dim than Ron on that front.

"So all in all it was not the smooth transition into the wizarding world that McGonagall and I practiced."

"But… Did he believe you? Is he going to go?" Harry didn't miss the hope and desperation in her voice.

"I… I think so. It'll take him a bit to accept it, but I think he'll come around."

They were both quite for a few minutes. Ginny looked at the bookcase and stared at the family portrait Ron had brandished at the poor boy.

"He looks just like him, Gin."

"I know." Ginny's eyes were sparkling with tears. "I saw the photo in Ron's file."

They were quiet again.

"I can't believe there's been a piece of him running around all these years and we had no idea." She turned to look at Harry, "Do you really think he'll go to Hogwarts?"

Harry considered. "I really do. It'll take him a few days to come to terms with it but I saw it in his eyes when he started to believe. Plus…" He suddenly remembered the subtle glances Peter and Bonnie had shared. "If I remember anything about being a teenage boy… If McGonagall and I couldn't convince him I think he'll make an exception for a pretty girl."

Ginny giggled and playfully hit him on the shoulder. They sank into a deep kiss, thankful that the kids were at the Burrow for the evening.


	4. Magic Nonsense

Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter. I just de-stress by writing about it.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Magic Nonsense**

**Peter**

Peter finally woke up from his nap. The sun was much lower. Mid-afternoon, he surmised. He sat up and stretched. At least his headache was gone. A donut and an iced coffee sat on the coffee table. Sean must have come back.

He remembered falling asleep and thinking he'd wake up to realize everything from the morning had simply been a dream. For some reason he no longer doubted that what they'd told him was true. He couldn't explain it but he knew in his bones that he was a little different. He couldn't help himself to be curious. He took the papers McGonagall had given him out of the folder and started leafing through them.

A letter from McGonagall informing him of his acceptance.

A supply list.

Instructions for how to access something called Diagon Alley where he could procure supplies and set up accounts at necessary wizarding institutions like a bank and post office.

A note from Potter inviting him to accompany him to said Diagon Alley on August 20th, promising to "show him the ropes."

A recruiting flyer of sorts that had some basic information about Hogwarts. It included moving photographs of a castle and sprawling grounds. There was a photo and bio of McGonagall and four colored seals that appeared to be the four dormitories of the school. On the back were some facts about the school. He shuffled the papers and took them to his desk in his room.

His phone dinged. It was from Sean informing him that he and Tiffany had decided to make the most of their last night. He grumbled to himself. Leave it to Sean to find himself an American girlfriend. Peter hadn't managed to go on more than two dates the entire time they'd been there. Sean told him that all he had to do was play up his accent and the girls would think he was exotic. Peter rolled his eyes. It's not like Sean had ever had any trouble with girls. He'd been suave for as long as he could remember.

Peter decided to pack his clothes. It didn't take long.

He opened a can of beer and settled on the balcony with a book but found he couldn't concentrate. Instead he just sat looking out at all of the city lights. He listened to the noisy bustle of a large city. He'd miss New York. He loved the sounds. The constant noise was somehow more relaxing to him than the quiet.

He found himself thinking about the morning's events. He decided he needed some more answers and made the decision to meet Bonnie for coffee. Maybe she could tell him a bit more about what he was getting into.

* * *

**Bonnie**

Bonnie clutched her side. She'd ran further than she'd expected but she couldn't help it. She loved the city. She'd been to New York a few times in her childhood. Her father often had business there and her parents had taken the family on a few vacations.

She rounded to corner and found the quaint coffee shop. She ordered herself an iced coffee and settled at a small table outside facing the direction Peter would be walking if he decided to come. She glanced around to make sure that she wasn't being watched and pulled out a few tokens. She waved her wand and muttered an incantation and they transformed into large hardcover books.

She opened the Advanced Potions book and began reading about complicated healing remedies.

"Hi."

She was so engrossed in the book that she hadn't noticed Peter approach. "Oh hello! I'm so glad you came. Please sit down."

"I think I'll go order first. It was a long night."

"Of course." He did look tired. But she wasn't surprised. She remembered the first night after McGonagall and Potter had come to see her. She hadn't gotten much sleep either.

He returned with his coffee and sat across from her. She marked her place and closed her book setting it on top of the other two large volumes. She smiled at him and he grinned back nervously. He was wearing jeans and a green tee shirt that she felt complimented him very well. He wasn't handsome in the traditional sense. Attractive definitely, but not the kind of man you'd find on a "Sexiest Man of the Year" magazine cover. But he had kind eyes and lines around his eyes and mouth that indicated he smiled wide and often.

"I don't really know why I'm here." He said awkwardly.

"Well I'm glad you came. I'm sure you have a few questions-"

He chuckled, "understatement of the century."

"Yes, well, I'll try to answer as many of them as I can. McGonagall usually brings one of us with her so that we can provide some insight. Seems they finally realized young people won't actually believe that old people actually understand what they're going through." She looked at him expectantly.

"I… uh… Well I guess first I'd… What I mean is…" he looked at his hands, took a deep breath and finally said "Well honestly I don't even know where to start."

Bonnie laughed. "Yes, I understand the feeling. How about I just tell you about me and how I came to Hogwarts and you can just chime in when you get your bearings?"

"Er that sounds good." He seemed a little relieved.

"Well like McGonagall said, my parents are both muggles – non magic people. I have an older sister. She's about seven years older than me so we were never very close. I'm 17. This will be my third year at Hogwarts. One day over the summer I got a letter from this fancy boarding school asking if I'd be interested in interviewing for a spot. My parents made me return the letter. I was hopping mad. I didn't want to leave my friends or my team. I had just gotten a starting position on the soccer team.

"But McGonagall came to the house and told me and my parents all the same rubbish she told you yesterday. I didn't believe it and my dad tried to call the police. She had to magically restrain him. Potter came too. He finally intervened and slowly I started to believe them. My parents were baffled but after McGonagall recounted all of the weird incidents I'd had and she showed them all sorts of magic I think we just all just decided to accept it. I can't really explain it. One minute I was sure she was nutters and the next I was setting up a plan to meet her in London the next day to go buy a wand and a cauldron."

"I know what you mean. It's hard to explain. I thought a lot about it last night and it just… It doesn't make any sense but it just seems right to believe it. Like I didn't realize I was missing a puzzle piece and suddenly found it." Peter played with the condensation on his cup.

"Exactly!" Bonnie nodded reassuringly. "Anyway, so we went to Diagon Alley which was just mad. It was a blur. But you'll see…"

"What exactly is that place? Potter left me a note saying he'd take me to get all my stuff."

"It's the hub of magical London. It has shops and magical lodging and restaurants. There are little wizarding communities sprinkled through out the country but Diagon Alley is probably the most commercial. It's amazing but you'll be really overwhelmed. They used to just give muggle borns instructions for how to access it and set them loose with a supply list." She shook her head disapprovingly. "I don't know how I would have managed on my own. I'm glad they've reformed that part of the muggle born integration process. McGonagall took me all over and showed me the shops where I'd need to go to get my supplies and uniform. She also helped me set up various accounts and things so I'd be all set."

"What kind of things will Potter take me to do?"

"Well first I suspect he'll take you to Gringotts. That's the bank. You'll need to set up an account. And they can exchange your muggle money for wizard money. They can even link to muggle bank accounts now so that you can withdraw directly from your personal bank. Once you have an account you can withdraw money or just list your account number when you want to buy things by owl post."

"Owl post…?" That had finally gotten Peter's attention. He squinted at her.

"Oh, of course. They use owls as their main method of communication."

"WHY?" Peter's mouth was agape.

Bonne laughed. "Honestly, I have no idea. Wizarding owls are very smart and fast. They are able to understand humans and so you can give them instructions. It's quite efficient once you get used to it. They have embraced some other more modern forms of communication now that muggle technology has advanced so far. But owl post is still the most used."

"How does it work?"

"Well a lot of people own their own owls. You write a letter and attach it to the owl's leg and tell it where to go or who to find. Don't ask me to explain more about how they know where they're going. I don't know and I think it would break my brain to figure it out!"

Peter laughed again. "At least I'm not the only one having trouble wrapping my head around things!"

"No, you definitely aren't. It's been two years and there are still things that baffle me. They are very nostalgic, especially the older generations. There is some real quaint stuff that you'll discover." He looked like his mind was very far away. "Anyway, there is also a normal post office. You can go in and pay a small fee to use one of the public owls. There are different rates for the kind of service you want. You know, speed, accuracy, the like."

"accuracy?"

"Well some owls are trained to bring a letter directly to a recipient regardless of where they are. Whether it be a specific room in a building or directly to them even if they aren't home. Others will simply deliver to an address. Like the difference between normal post and a courier. Hogwarts has a lot of school owls that are free for students to use if they don't have their own. And the post office has a system that they've worked out with the muggle post office. You put your address on file with them and they give you a specific box number. You can give muggles that box number and someone from the wizard post office goes to pick up mail at the muggle post office and will have it delivered to you by owl. And vice versa. You can add an instruction with an owl to have your letter mailed the muggle way. That's how I keep in touch with my parents."

Peter's brain seemed to be stalling at this point. "You can't just call them?"

Bonnie sighed. "No, not really. Electricity and magic don't work together very well. The ministry has made some significant strides in that area but not enough to make phones and computers work in magical places."

"Wait I won't be able to use a computer?!" Peter looked horrified.

"Well yes and no. Hogwarts set up a specific room for computers. They set up wards so that no magic works in that room so that electronics like computers can be used. They have a few computers and you can bring your own. I often use it, but not many people do. It's mostly just the Phoenix students that use it since we grew up accustomed to the technology. Wizards have self writing quills and things that they use to save their wrists."

"Quills?"

"Yes, quills. And ink. And parchment." After a stunned silence from Peter she continued. "Like I said, they're very nostalgic. They love all that old timey shit."

"Will I have to learn how to use a bloody feather to write an essay?"

Bonnie cackled with laughter. "No. After the first year of the Phoenix program they had to come up with alternatives for us because the students just flat out refused. Most use fountain pens. It's a similar feeling but less archaic."

"Oh, well that's good." Peter looked like he still had a number of questions about all that nonsense but instead he said, "Well, what else should I know?"

"Hogwarts is great. I'm so happy there. It's old and quirky but I wouldn't trade it for anything." She beamed at him.

"Can you tell me more about it? Maybe stick to what I can understand. I don't know if my grain can handle learning about any more weird wizarding quirks right now."

"I'll try to keep it basic. Well it's a really old school. I don't even know how old it is. It's up in Scotland somewhere. No one knows exactly where. There are all sorts of wards that make it so that it can't be put on a map. The grounds are gorgeous. There's a forest with all sorts of magical creatures like unicorns and centaurs. There's a massive lake and a wizard village next to it. On weekends we can go into the village and blow off some steam." She waited for him to ask questions but he seemed like he was making a list in his

"The castle is massive. There are classrooms. And the great hall which is amazing. It's where we all eat and the ceiling is enchanted so that it looks like whatever the sky is at that moment. I spend a lot of time in there. In between meals it's really quiet. Especially in the winter when it's cold I like to imagine I'm studying outside. And the centaurs will tell us when there's a meteor shower passing over and some of us will gather in the great hall with cocoa and watch."

"That… That sounds lovely. What will happen when I get there?"

"Well first you'll be sorted. There are four houses. I'm a Ravenclaw. We're supposed to be the smart ones. We just really like learning. Gryffindor are the brave ones. They're all about 'the right thing to do' and that nonsense. They're fun though. They always have crazy ideas. Hufflepuff are supposed to be the nice ones. They are really selfless. A lot of them end up as teachers or in social work. They just want the world to be a better place. My best friend is a Hufflepuff. And then there's Slytherin. They have kind of a bad rap because a lot of the bad guys from the last war were Slytherin. Their whole thing is that they're cunning and ambitious. A lot of people used to think they're evil but they're not. Everyone thinks that Ravenclaw are the logical ones but Slytherin is more logical really. Ravenclaw just want to know everything. We're not smarter than anyone else. Slytherin just don't act rashly, they're always three steps ahead of everyone else. Bloody good chess players. Kind of like politicians. They know what they want and they aren't afraid to go after it."

Peter was silent for a while. "What do you think I'll be?"

Bonnie was quiet. "I don't know. What sounds like you?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know if I'm any of those things." Peter looked slightly crestfallen. She thought she might know what was going on in his mind.

"Don't worry, the sorting hat will figure you out. It's been around for ages and has sorted all of the students. It can sort of see into your mind and see your potential. There are some theories for how it works but I think it sees your potential and puts you in the house that will help you grow the most." She went on. "For regular students you spend almost all your time with your housemates. You have classes with them and hang out in the common room. Since most of the Phoenix students are older McGonagall set up a special common room for us. It is magically linked to the common rooms of all four houses so that you can hang out there if you want. Most of us don't do that very often though. The sixth and seventh years are fine, but I don't fancy spending my evening watching eleven year olds play games for hours on end. We each have our own rooms. We all share a bathroom. Those of us that are over 17 can have our own rooms in the Phoenix dorm. 17 is when wizards come of age. If you're younger than that you sleep with your housemates of the same age. This will be my first year in the Phoenix dorm. I can't wait to have my own room!"

Peter took a long sip of coffee and watched the traffic for a while.

"And McGonagall said that our curriculum is different?"

"Yes. The Phoenix program is four years long. I'm coming into my third year. The first three years at Hogwarts typically go through a lot of the basics and foundations of magic and what it can and can't do. The biggest part of that is learning to control and harness your magic. The older you are, the easier it is to do that. I think because our brains are better developed. So it's easier to learn a lot of that. The first two years of the program you'll spend half your class time in specialized lessons with the professors of the various subjects. That's where you'll learn practical stuff. Like how to actually do spells and make potions and things. Then the other half of the time you'll be in classes with first through fourth years learning more of the theoretical stuff. Starting in your second year you can take on some electives. After the second year you'll take your first set of exams. Then the final two years are mostly practical lessons unless you've chosen electives that are more theoretical. Then you'll have your second set of exams at the end of the fourth year and you're ready to be a fully fledged member of the wizarding world! You can get a job or an apprenticeship or continue your education."

"I mean it all sounds a lot more normal when you say it." Peter rubbed his temples.

"Yes, well that's why McGonagall usually brings one of us along. She's so stiff and even though she's very well adjusted and patient, there's just no way to understand what it feels like to learn that you're going to go live in a magical world where they use owls for mail and fireplaces for travel."

"Fireplaces?"

"Floo Network. You can step through the fireplace in one location and travel to another one. There's also apparition which is teleportation. And of course there's magic brooms and portkeys. All have merits."

"Teleportation sounds good."

"Well you likely won't be able to take the test until after your third year. It requires an extraordinary amount of concentration and control over your magic. You can't even start the training until sixth year. But you can really get anywhere you want with Floo Powder."

"And you're not serious about broomsticks right?"

Bonnie laughed and assured him that broomsticks were in fact a real thing. She told him all about Quidditch, moving pictures, Hogsmeade, ghosts, chocolate frogs, and other things she remembered. They laughed and she remembered how funny the whole thing was. She supposed that if she were to have entered the world at 11 she wouldn't have found it all so odd.

Finally Peter looked at his watch and said that he had to go and finish packing.

Bonnie pushed two of the books towards him.

"What are these?" he asked

"They're for you! Well they're mine but you can borrow them. The first one is a magical history textbook. It's on your booklist but I think you'll find it interesting and it might answer some of your questions. The other one is a book about Hogwarts." She pointed to both of them.

"Thanks, I guess I have homework already!"

She laughed. "Someone gave them to me before my first trip on the Hogwarts Express and I really enjoyed learning more. They brought more questions than they answered, but…" She shrugged. "Anyway, I'll just transform them." She waved her wand and each of the books shrunk in size slightly and the covers changed so that they looked much more normal. "Now they look more like muggle books. I know you have a long plane ride and I thought maybe you could read them on the flight. None of the pictures inside will move or anything so you don't have to worry about weird questions."

"Er… thanks. I appreciate it."

"Of course. You can give them back to me at school."

"Who said I had decided to come?!" Peter joked.

"Well if you weren't going to you wouldn't have spent three hours this morning listen to me jabber on about magical nonsense." She winked.

"Perhaps. Maybe I had other motives." He shuffled awkwardly.

Bonnie blushed. She couldn't say she hated the idea of him wanting to spend time with her.

"Well here's my phone number. It won't work once we get to school but if you have any questions before the first just text me and I'll see what I can do."

They reached the corner.

"Well I'm this way." She said pointing in the opposite direction of his building.

"Thanks again. I guess I'll see you soon."

"Can't wait."

Bonnie had just turned on her heel to walk away.

"Hey Bonnie?"

"Yes Peter?"

"What am I supposed to tell my family? My friends?"

She laughed "That's up to you, Peter. Tell them whatever you want. They probably won't believe you until you have a wand and know a few spells to show off. But you can always try!"


	5. Diagon Alley

Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter. I just de-stress by writing about it.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Diagon Alley**

**Peter**

Peter and Sean stood on the corner waiting for the Taxi. They each had a backpack and a suitcase. Sean had a neck pillow. They'd managed to sell or give away the little furniture they'd acquired over their semester abroad. The few boxes of books and things they hadn't wanted to give away or sell they had sent yesterday with a moving service. It would take a while to get back to England. It would get put on a freight ship and would slowly make its way across the Atlantic.

Sean hailed a cab and it pulled over.

"Well I guess this is goodbye. So long 407 Liberty!" Sean pretended to wipe away a tear and saluted the building."

"Oy I ain't got all day midan" the cab driver seemed grumpy.

Thy put their luggage in the trunk and settled in for the drive to the airport.

Peter wasn't looking forward to the plane ride. Ever since he learned about apparition he couldn't help but wonder if shouldn't have phoned the hotel McGonagall and Bonnie were staying at to see if he could skip the plane ride. He'd ultimately decided it would cause far too many questions from Sean.

Sean was already flabbergasted that Peter was considering changing universities.

"What do you mean you might not be coming back?" Sean had demanded yesterday after he got back from coffee with Bonnie and Sean had asked about his interview. "I thought it was just a formality for your advisor?"

Peter had managed to bumble through a lie telling Sean that an application had been filed on his behalf and that now that he knew more about the school he was really excited about the possibility. His parents wouldn't really care. They were currently on an extended second honeymoon in Thailand with limited cell service. He'd let them know he was changing schools and he doubted they'd question it much. His mother might have more questions since she was English but she'd never gone to university so he doubted she would consider it impossible that she'd never heard of the school. His father was American and had attended Navy university so he didn't care. He just wanted Peter to graduate. Well he really wanted Peter to join the military but he'd lost that battle.

Much to his horror, Sean had googled Hogwarts. The website was simple and included much of the marketing material found in the brochure. Though Peter noticed it left out anything about magic. Sean finally seemed satisfied that he'd be getting a decent education and resigned himself to the fact that he'd have to survive without him. Peter promised they'd keep in touch.

. . .

"Gummy bear?" Sean crinkled the bag under his nose.

"No. Thank you." He rolled his eyes at Sean. He really was something else. His silk eye mask over his eyes and his neck pillow already in place he was dressed in designer loungewear, settled in for the long flight.

"Benadryl then?"

"Again, no." Sean had popped an allergy pill in his mouth. Peter had tried to argue that it probably wasn't advisable to have two beers before the flight and the sleeping aid, but he'd had no luck.

"You'll be sorry when that bloke starts snoring." Sean jabbed his thumb at the seat behind them.

"I'm just planning to read." Peter had already pulled out the books Bonnie had given him and started to flip through them.

"C'mon, really? Didn't you read enough last semester? I thought that history class would kill me."

"I like history."

Sean finally pulled his eye mask off one eye and glanced at him. "What are these massive things?" Despite his best effort Sean managed to pull one of the books out of his grasp. " _Hogwarts: A History (A Modern Adaptation)_. The fuck is this shit?"

Peter groaned. "They're books about the new school. Bon- The people I met with gave them to me in case I was curious."

"Can't you get all that info from the internet these days?"

"I like reading."

"Yeah but this looks atrocious. Never mind the Benadryl, give it here and I'll use it to get to sleep. Wait – is this what that girl gave you when you met her for coffee?"

Peter groaned again. Apparently Sean had seen him at coffee with Bonnie and had been badgering him nonstop about her ever since.

"Well of course you're gonna read them. If my professors looked anything like her I'd read anything they told me to. Tell me you're gonna h-"

"Please don't finish that sentence." Peter grabbed his book back. "She was just telling me about the school."

"Whatever mate. You two looked pretty cozy. Laughing it up. And she's going out of her way to give you books and she promised to give you a tour when you get there? Don't forget which one of us knows more about girls." Peter was raising his eyebrows repeatedly like a cartoon character.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Shove it u-"

"Don't be rude." Sean replaced his eye mask and settled back into his seat. "Well it's time for my beauty rest. You owe me a beer when it turns out I'm right."

"Yeah, whatever." Peter cracked the book back open and began to read and tried to block out the part of his brain that was desperately hoping Sean was right.

* * *

**Harry**

Harry stood awkwardly next to the old abandoned shop that was the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. He checked his watch and smiled to himself thinking that this was one of the few times in his life he'd been on time – if not early – for anything in his life. Hermione would be proud.

He watched the muggle shoppers and professionals pass on the street, looking at their phones and gossiping. It was the kind of thing that he didn't used to understand before and right after the war. How could people chatter about such useless things with everything he and his friends had gone through. But the muggles knew nothing of the horrors of the wars. Even most witches and wizards who had lost someone didn't really understand. He shook his head at himself. That was the kind of melodramatic nonsense he'd stamped out years ago.

He wasn't sure why he was reminiscing about those times. Perhaps it was because he'd been unable to shake Fred – and everyone else they'd lost – from his mind ever since New York. He'd expected to feel… so much after meeting Peter. After all, it wasn't as though he wasn't reminded of Fred every time he saw George. It was more that it was the reminder of the future that had been lost. He could just imagine Fred taking Peter to Diagon Alley himself to get all of his supplies for his first year. It wouldn't have be like Harry's (or Peter's soon to be) first trip. A shopping trip as much as an introduction to a new life. It would have been just a normal shopping excursion with a little bit more sentimental energy.

A flash of bright red hair roused him from his daydreaming. Peter spotted him from across the street and made his way over.

"Hello Peter." Harry extended his hand

"Mr. – I mean, Professor Potter."

"Please, call me Harry. Professor makes me sound like I know what I'm doing."

"Ah Impostor Syndrome." Peter smirked. "Through from the books Bonnie lent me it seems like you might know a bit about a few things."

Harry shuffled his feet. "I might have had an adventure here or there…"

They were quiet for a moment.

"Well anyway, thanks for offering to show me around." Peter broke the silence.

"Of course. It would be very overwhelming to do on your own I would think. Shall we?" Harry motioned to the shop. Peter raised an eyebrow at him. "Muggles do their best not to notice magic. As you approach the entrance you'll see that it changes into – Ah see? The Leaky Cauldron. One of the best little pubs and inns around. I spent almost an entire summer here once."

They walked through the door and Tom waved at him. He looked Peter up and down and locked eyes with Harry. Harry nodded once and Tom winked. The resemblance was uncanny and Harry, Ron and George spent enough time at the bar for him to notice.

"This bar is the entrance to Diagon Alley. You go through the back here and enter into this courtyard. Then you tap your wand on these bricks and voila! Diagon Alley."

Peter said nothing. Harry thought he was either bursting with questions or considering running. He patted his shoulder and motioned them through.

It was strange. He had done this at least 10 times now – taking muggle born or Phoenix students to Diagon Alley for the first time. But for some reason this time felt different. His mind rushed to that first time with Hagrid. The strange colors and sounds were overwhelming. He remembered wishing he had extra eyes so that he could look in all directions at once. He smiled fondly, thinking of Moody. Peter could probably use his glass eye right now.

"Anyway, this is it. I know there's… a lot to take in. I find it's easiest to just start at Gringotts and then we'll just keep moving. Ask your questions as they come. I'll do my best to answer them. I know you've done a bit of reading. Bonnie mentioned that you requested a few more books on culture and the like. If I'm going on about something you already know, just shut me up."

Peter grunted as a sign of acknowledgement. Harry led him to the largest building.

"This is Gringotts, the bank. It's run by goblins. They are… an interesting sort."

He noticed Peter looking up at the entrance to the bank. He stopped so they could read the inscription.

"Sounds like you'd be mad to try and rob it." Peter said quietly.

Harry smiled at the reminder of Hagrid, "Mad indeed…"

They walked into the lobby and Harry guided them over to the welcome desk. "We have an appointment for Mr. Davis." The goblin inspected them and led them into a small room where another goblin led them through the necessary paperwork. Peter got his account number and used his muggle checks to set up an exchange program with his bank and withdraw some gold. Peter didn't seem to be impressed with the bulky coins but Harry assured him he'd get used to it soon. He explained how to rent a vault if he had valuables he wanted to store. Otherwise, the bank would just keep records of his account and he could withdraw money or use owl order. Gringotts had made some improvements to their services in the past ten years. Harry smiled thinking of how happy Hagrid had been to learn that he'd never again have to ride on those "infernal carts." Harry told him that the next time he was here he should get a tour.

"It's really quite something. We don't have time for it today, but it's really quite something. Plus, if you do the extended tour you'll get to visit my friend's new Dragon history and protection exhibit at the bottom."

"Dragons exist? And they need protection?" Peter looked flabbergasted.

"Well how much protection they need is debatable, but my best friend is… passionate about all living things and never seems to have enough to do."

Harry led Peter out. "Next stop, the post office." Just before opening the door, he paused. "It'll take a minute or two to adjust to the smell. Birds and all that. They work round the clock on scourgifying smells but when you have hundreds of owls flying in and out each hour, it can be hard to keep up with."

Peter looked horrified and Harry smiled to himself as they entered. He noticed that Peter looked around the post office with curiosity and not confusion.

"I take it owl post was one of the things you learned about in your research?"

"Yes," Peter nodded. "Bonnie explained about how it works."

"Great. That will save us some time." Harry gave him a tour of the place and showed him the different forms and how to choose an owl. "Of course, Hogwarts has plenty of owls that you can use. But since you're older you're free to go down to Hogsmeade anytime you want and you can u se the post owls there. There's a small post office branch there. They have special ones that are really fast or that can carry especially heavy loads. You can also pay for one to wait around for the recipient to respond and bring it back to you right away. Just look at the color code that I gave you. And they have some that are particularly good at finding recipients. You might call them the Hufflepuffs of the owl post." Harry chuckled at his joke but realized that Peter wouldn't know what it meant.

"Any questions?" Harry asked.

"Um… only about a million." Peter responded.

"Well, more where that came from. If there aren't any you're dying to ask right now, I suppose we'll go get your wand. Then we'll do lunch."

He lead Peter around the corner to the rickety building. "Welcome to Ollivander's!" Under his breath he added, "Wandmakers are weird. Just roll with it."

Peter looked apprehensive but followed him into shop.

A wirey man that didn't look much older than Peter came out from an isle in the back and greeted Harry like an old friend.

"Ah Mr. Potter! It's excellent to see you again. The Holly still treating you alright? Excellent. Have you brought another Hogwarts newbie? Ah! Another Weasley? I wasn't aware there were any more redheads awaiting attendance. At least not until Sammy and Jess in about seven years."

"This is Peter Davis. He will be a Phoenix student. He is the son of Fred Weasley. It turns out he was engaged to a muggle woman before… Anyway, we just found him and he's decided to join us at Hogwarts. I'm here giving him the tour and getting all his stuff. I figured no better place to start than a wand!"

"I quite agree Mr. Potter. Mr. Davis – it is a pleasure. I will get you situated. Please wait here while I bring out some for you to try."

Peter looked at Harry, unsure what all had transpired in the last thirty seconds.

"Like I said, wandmakers are weird." Harry said quietly. "Wandmaking is handed down from family to family. His grandfather sold me my wand and the crazy old bastard was still puttering around at 120 until about five years ago. Rumor has it he refused to die until he was sure his grandson would be able to carry on the family business."

"120?"

"Yeah, witches and wizards live longer than muggles. But, just like muggles, some old bats are just too stubborn to die… Anyway, each wand is unique. Wood, core, length, they all add up to a temperament. Wands choose the wizard. You'll know it when you find the right one. And it will grow with you as you learn. Eventually you'll feel like it's an extra limb. It's really quite extraordinary. I took it for granted until mine was broken and I had to use someone else's wand."

"So you can mend wands?"

"Rarely!" Ollivander popped back out from behind the shelves carrying at least 20 boxes. "Mr. Potter is, as always, an exception to the rule."

Peter looked curiously at Harry who said "A story for another time," he winked. "Get on with it."

Peter tried about seven wands. After giving the first a wave and setting fire to a rubbish bin, Ollivander waved his own wand and sent all the remaining boxes flying back to their own shelves. He disappeared and came back with another 20 boxes. After each wave, it seemed Ollivander narrowed down the puzzle until three wands remained.

"Tell me, Mr. Davis, what do you feel when you wield this one?"

"Er…." Peter held the wand and waved it, making the bell on the desk tinkle and break. "Strange. It's hard to describe. Like I'm me but I'm someone else. Kind of like déjà vu."

To Ollivander it seemed to make perfect sense. "In that case," he grabbed the wand back and picked up one of the three boxes, "I suspect that this one will do the trick."

Peter raised an eyebrow but picked up the wand. "Woah…" He waved it and one of the wand boxes turned on it's side and tapped out a small tune before falling halfway down as though it was bowing and then fell back on the counter. "That was… different."

"We've found the one! Aspen and unicorn hair. Excellent for charmwork and dueling. Aspen wands prefer witches and wizards with strong moral fiber and those who fight for the underdog. Unicorn hair wands are very faithful and not easily turned dark. Though not the strongest cores on their own, they bond with their partner for an unbreakable bond that will strengthen overtime with the loyalty of the wizard. I think we can expect very interesting things from you Mr. Davis!"

"Er… thanks.

Peter paid for his wand and Harry took the bag for him. Harry lead Peter out and couldn't help himself but smile at the look of relief on Peter's face as they stepped out into the sunshine. He remembered thinking that the whole experience was weird when he got his wand, and it seemed the apple did not fall far from the tree with Mr. Ollivander the VII.

"So, lunch?" Harry asked Peter.

"Uh, I guess…" Harry showed him around the corner and tried to hurry him down the street before Peter could see the most prominent shop in the whole area. Unfortunately, it seemed Goerge's new firework displays were not to be ignored. "What in the world?"

"That is Weasey's Wizard Weazes. It's a joke shop that was started by Fred and George. Ron has taken over Fred's share of the ownership." Harry stared at his feet. He'd hoped to avoid this. It hadn't been part of the plan.

"Oh… I see." Peter looked at the shop apprehensively. "Are we not going in there?"

"Well, it wasn't part of the plan. I thought… that might be a bit much. I hadn't planned on forcing some kind of a family reunion on you. You only learned about… all that… a fortnight ago. I didn't want to presume how you were feeling or if you'd considered what kind of relationship you'd like to have."

Peter was quiet and eyed the shop with apprehension.

"Look," Harry said stepping closer to Peter, "The Weasleys are my family, and not just because of marriage. They are the best group of people I've ever met and they took me and Hermione in no questions asked even though they already had seven children. They are generous and loving but they are a handful. Very overwhelming. Obviously Ron and George know about you and Ginny knows too, but I don't think anyone else does. George and Ron are up there in the shop right now but they have no idea we're here. If you wanted to go in, they'd be ecstatic. But if it's too much or too soon they'll never be the wiser."

Peter seemed to consider this. Looked like he was on the precipice of making a decision before he went in a different direction. "Wait, you said Hermione? Like Hermione Granger? Do you know her?"

"Yes, she's my best friend and Ron's wife. You've heard of her?" Harry tried to be casual and catch up with the abrupt change in conversation.

"Yeah, she helped write some of the books Bonnie gave me. 'Hogwarts: An Updated History, with a forward and supplemental notes by-"

"Hermione Granger." Harry finished for him, "Yes, she has been quite busy. It's her favorite book. She read it at least twice a year when we were in school. And she took it upon herself to bring to light some of the more… colorful details about the school that the original edition had glossed over. But wait, didn't Bonnie give you her updated version of A History of Magic as well?" If Peter had read that one he wouldn't have been surprised to know that Harry and Hermione knew each other.

"She did but I haven't read it yet. I started but it was a bit overwhelming. Plus I expect we'll cover a lot of it in class."

"Indeed." Harry suppressed a grin at the thought of how disappointed Peter would likely be when he found out how dull Professor Binns' class would turn out to be.

"So she updated that one as well?" Peter asked

"Yes. After the war she did not enjoy the publicity that came with being a part of the 'Golden Trio." Harry grimaced at the name, "I, of course, was used to it. I didn't like it, but it wasn't that new. Ron, actually kind of enjoyed it. I think it was a nice escape for him. It helped distract him a bit from the losses he suffered. But Hermione never really adjusted to the attention. She had her own battles to face and losses to grieve. When she found out that Rita Skeeter was writing a tell-all about me-"

"The Boy Who Lived… and Died and Lived Again." Peter supplied.

"Er, yes. Been reading Skeeter have you?"

"Oh, no. Bonnie told me to steer clear of that one. But I didn't need the warning. I love literature too much to put stock in something with that terrible of a name."

Harry laughed, "Hermione will just love you. It was rather unoriginal, I thought. But when she found out that Skeeter had taken it upon herself to write a version of the second war and my struggles, Hermione was livid and decided to put all of her energy into putting out a better version before Skeeter's." Harry thought fondly of the fire that he'd seen in his friend and the pride and relief he'd felt too. Hermione had the most trouble adjusting after the battle and she seemed to be a shell of herself. But leave it to Skeeter to bring back the friend that had been hiding. "She didn't want all the attention of an autobiography but wanted to correct some of the assumptions and attitudes that Bathilda Bagshot had originally written. She just added to the original edition. Miracle she got it done in time too. It launched two weeks before Skeeter's and made a much bigger splash. Stole her thunder you could say." He had seen Hermione work tirelessly before. O.W.L.s, Hippogriff trial research, and Horcrux investigation had had nothing on Hermione's work with the book. He couldn't remember her seeming more alive or get less sleep.

"Well anyway," Harry broke the silence, "Lunch then?" He made to move off in the other direction.

Peter shuffled. "I s'pose it wouldn't hurt to say a quick hello…" He said it so softly that Harry wasn't sure he'd heard him right.

"Are you sure? You don't have to. That wasn't reason I brought you to Diagon Alley. There will be plenty of time in the future…"

"Yes." Peter seemed surer of himself. "Let's do it."

"Alright well you can't say I didn't warn you! And not just about the Weasleys. Going into the shop for the first time is like stepping into a kaleidoscope."

Harry lead him across the street and opened the door for him. The blinding lights and sounds assaulted his senses. It was packed as always. He steered Peter to the corner where the tamest of the joke products were housed. "Look around. I'll go upstairs and get them."

Harry waved hello to the witch at the counter and made his way to the fifth floor of the shop where the offices were. He pushed the door open.

George had his feet up on the desk and was listening to a Quidditch broadcast while eating a sandwich. He turned the volume dial up over the sound of Ron shouting. "Oi Ron, shut up. It's tied."

"-AND IF I EVER LEARN OF YOU DOING ANYTHING LIKE IT AGAIN I'LL – Oh bullocks now I'll have to start again." He stopped shouting, "Hey Harry what are you doing here?"

"Who's the howler for?"

"Dung. I gave him some of our testing products and he… Well I won't give you any details. It's better you don't know…"

"Whatever you say," Harry laughed.

"AND THERE GOES THE SEASON." George banged on the desk and turned off the radio. "Hey Harry, what brings you in today? Babysitting another first year?"

"Yeah. Thought we'd come say hello." Harry scratched the back of his neck nervously. "It's Peter."

George and Ron were silent. Then a look of sheer joy erupted over Ron's face. "Blimey Harry, why didn't you warn me you were coming today?"

"Well I hadn't intended to bring him by. I didn't want him to feel pressure. It was his idea after he saw the shop. He seemed pretty nervous but said it wouldn't hurt to say hello."

George looked green. "He's… here? He knows I'm here? And he wants to meet me?"

"Supposedly. He's downstairs poking around in the 'Hogwarts Approved' section."

Ron rolled his eyes. "What an idiotic idea. Only time I've been able to pull an I told you so over Hermione." George and Ron had vehemently refused to invest any money in a line of joke supplies that wouldn't offend Filch. _If they don't cause mass hysteria, what's even the point?_ George had argued. Ultimately Hermione had invested her own money for the R&D and had refused to talk about the subject ever since finding out the sales had been dismal.

"Well, shall we?" Harry held the door open. George looked like he might faint but nodded and followed Ron down the stairs.

. . .

"Peter, you remember Ron?" Harry finally found him. He'd drifted over to the joke snacks section of the first floor.

Ron almost tackled him into a great big hug. Harry groaned.

"I… yes. Good to see you." Peter straightened his tee shirt. He looked at George and extended his hand. "And you must be George."

"Yes, that's me" George sputtered. Harry thought to himself that he'd never seen George nervous. He and Fred had always been the most casual of the Weasley bunch, followed closely by Ginny. It took a lot to shake any of them.

George and Peter simply stared at each other. Ron looked between them excitedly. Finally George cleared his throat and said, "a tour then?"

Chapter 5: Diagon Alley (Peter)

Peter and Sean stood on the corner waiting for the Taxi. They each had a backpack and a suitcase. Sean had a neck pillow. They'd managed to sell or give away the little furniture they'd acquired over their semester abroad. The few boxes of books and things they hadn't wanted to give away or sell they had sent yesterday with a moving service. It would take a while to get back to England. It would get put on a freight ship and would slowly make its way across the Atlantic.

Sean hailed a cab and it pulled over.

"Well I guess this is goodbye. So long 407 Liberty!" Sean pretended to wipe away a tear and saluted the building."

"Oy I ain't got all day man" the cab driver seemed grumpy.

Thy put their luggage in the trunk and settled in for the drive to the airport.

Peter wasn't looking forward to the plane ride. Ever since he learned about apparition he couldn't help but wonder if shouldn't have phoned the hotel McGonagall and Bonnie were staying at to see if he could skip the plane ride. He'd ultimately decided it would cause far too many questions from Sean.

Sean was already flabbergasted that Peter was considering changing universities.

"What do you mean you might not be coming back?" Sean had demanded yesterday after he got back from coffee with Bonnie and Sean had asked about his interview. "I thought it was just a formality for your advisor?"

Peter had managed to bumble through a lie telling Sean that an application had been filed on his behalf and that now that he knew more about the school he was really excited about the possibility. His parents wouldn't really care. They were currently on an extended second honeymoon in Thailand with limited cell service. He'd let them know he was changing schools and he doubted they'd question it much. His mother might have more questions since she was English but she'd never gone to university so he doubted she would consider it impossible that she'd never heard of the school. His father was American and had attended Navy university so he didn't care. He just wanted Peter to graduate. Well he really wanted Peter to join the military but he'd lost that battle.

Much to his horror, Sean had googled Hogwarts. The website was simple and included much of the marketing material found in the brochure. Though Peter noticed it left out anything about magic. Sean finally seemed satisfied that he'd be getting a decent education and resigned himself to the fact that he'd have to survive without him. Peter promised they'd keep in touch.

. . .

"Gummy bear?" Sean crinkled the bag under his nose.

"No. Thank you." He rolled his eyes at Sean. He really was something else. His silk eye mask over his eyes and his neck pillow already in place he was dressed in designer loungewear, settled in for the long flight.

"Benadryl then?"

"Again, no." Sean had popped an allergy pill in his mouth. Peter had tried to argue that it probably wasn't advisable to have two beers before the flight and the sleeping aid, but he'd had no luck.

"You'll be sorry when that bloke starts snoring." Sean jabbed his thumb at the seat behind them.

"I'm just planning to read." Peter had already pulled out the books Bonnie had given him and started to flip through them.

"C'mon, really? Didn't you read enough last semester? I thought that history class would kill me."

"I like history."

Sean finally pulled his eye mask off one eye and glanced at him. "What are these massive things?" Despite his best effort Sean managed to pull one of the books out of his grasp. " _Hogwarts: A History (A Modern Adaptation)_. The fuck is this shit?"

Peter groaned. "They're books about the new school. Bon- The people I met with gave them to me in case I was curious."

"Can't you get all that info from the internet these days?"

"I like reading."

"Yeah but this looks atrocious. Never mind the Benadryl, give it here and I'll use it to get to sleep. Wait – is this what that girl gave you when you met her for coffee?"

Peter groaned again. Apparently Sean had seen him at coffee with Bonnie and had been badgering him nonstop about her ever since.

"Well of course you're gonna read them. If my professors looked anything like her I'd read anything they told me to. Tell me you're gonna h-"

"Please don't finish that sentence." Peter grabbed his book back. "She was just telling me about the school."

"Whatever mate. You two looked pretty cozy. Laughing it up. And she's going out of her way to give you books and she promised to give you a tour when you get there? Don't forget which one of us knows more about girls." Peter was raising his eyebrows repeatedly like a cartoon character.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Shove it u-"

"Don't be rude." Sean replaced his eye mask and settled back into his seat. "Well it's time for my beauty rest. You owe me a beer when it turns out I'm right."

"Yeah, whatever." Peter cracked the book back open and began to read and tried to block out the part of his brain that was desperately hoping Sean was right.

**Harry**

Harry stood awkwardly next to the old abandoned shop that was the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. He checked his watch and smiled to himself thinking that this was one of the few times in his life he'd been on time – if not early – for anything in his life. Hermione would be proud.

He watched the muggle shoppers and professionals pass on the street, looking at their phones and gossiping. It was the kind of thing that he didn't used to understand before and right after the war. How could people chatter about such useless things with everything he and his friends had gone through. But the muggles knew nothing of the horrors of the wars. Even most witches and wizards who had lost someone didn't really understand. He shook his head at himself. That was the kind of melodramatic nonsense he'd stamped out years ago.

He wasn't sure why he was reminiscing about those times. Perhaps it was because he'd been unable to shake Fred – and everyone else they'd lost – from his mind ever since New York. He'd expected to feel… so much after meeting Peter. After all, it wasn't as though he wasn't reminded of Fred every time he saw George. It was more that it was the reminder of the future that had been lost. He could just imagine Fred taking Peter to Diagon Alley himself to get all of his supplies for his first year. It wouldn't have be like Harry's (or Peter's soon to be) first trip. A shopping trip as much as an introduction to a new life. It would have been just a normal shopping excursion with a little bit more sentimental energy.

A flash of bright red hair roused him from his daydreaming. Peter spotted him from across the street and made his way over.

"Hello Peter." Harry extended his hand

"Mr. – I mean, Professor Potter."

"Please, call me Harry. Professor makes me sound like I know what I'm doing."

"Ah Impostor Syndrome." Peter smirked. "Through from the books Bonnie lent me it seems like you might know a bit about a few things."

Harry shuffled his feet. "I might have had an adventure here or there…"

They were quiet for a moment.

"Well anyway, thanks for offering to show me around." Peter broke the silence.

"Of course. It would be very overwhelming to do on your own I would think. Shall we?" Harry motioned to the shop. Peter raised an eyebrow at him. "Muggles do their best not to notice magic. As you approach the entrance you'll see that it changes into – Ah see? The Leaky Cauldron. One of the best little pubs and inns around. I spent almost an entire summer here once."

They walked through the door and Tom waved at him. He looked Peter up and down and locked eyes with Harry. Harry nodded once and Tom winked. The resemblance was uncanny and Harry, Ron and George spent enough time at the bar for him to notice.

"This bar is the entrance to Diagon Alley. You go through the back here and enter into this courtyard. Then you tap your wand on these bricks and voila! Diagon Alley."

Peter said nothing. Harry thought he was either bursting with questions or considering running. He patted his shoulder and motioned them through.

It was strange. He had done this at least 10 times now – taking muggle born or Phoenix students to Diagon Alley for the first time. But for some reason this time felt different. His mind rushed to that first time with Hagrid. The strange colors and sounds were overwhelming. He remembered wishing he had extra eyes so that he could look in all directions at once. He smiled fondly, thinking of Moody. Peter could probably use his glass eye right now.

"Anyway, this is it. I know there's… a lot to take in. I find it's easiest to just start at Gringotts and then we'll just keep moving. Ask your questions as they come. I'll do my best to answer them. I know you've done a bit of reading. Bonnie mentioned that you requested a few more books on culture and the like. If I'm going on about something you already know, just shut me up."

Peter grunted as a sign of acknowledgement. Harry led him to the largest building.

"This is Gringotts, the bank. It's run by goblins. They are… an interesting sort."

He noticed Peter looking up at the entrance to the bank. He stopped so they could read the inscription.

"Sounds like you'd be mad to try and rob it." Peter said quietly.

Harry smiled at the reminder of Hagrid, "Mad indeed…"

They walked into the lobby and Harry guided them over to the welcome desk. "We have an appointment for Mr. Davis." The goblin inspected them and led them into a small room where another goblin led them through the necessary paperwork. Peter got his account number and used his muggle checks to set up an exchange program with his bank and withdraw some gold. Peter didn't seem to be impressed with the bulky coins but Harry assured him he'd get used to it soon. He explained how to rent a vault if he had valuables he wanted to store. Otherwise, the bank would just keep records of his account and he could withdraw money or use owl order. Gringotts had made some improvements to their services in the past ten years. Harry smiled thinking of how happy Hagrid had been to learn that he'd never again have to ride on those "infernal carts." Harry told him that the next time he was here he should get a tour.

"It's really quite something. We don't have time for it today, but it's really quite something. Plus, if you do the extended tour you'll get to visit my friend's new Dragon history and protection exhibit at the bottom."

"Dragons exist? And they need protection?" Peter looked flabbergasted.

"Well how much protection they need is debatable, but my best friend is… passionate about all living things and never seems to have enough to do."

Harry led Peter out. "Next stop, the post office." Just before opening the door, he paused. "It'll take a minute or two to adjust to the smell. Birds and all that. They work round the clock on scourgifying smells but when you have hundreds of owls flying in and out each hour, it can be hard to keep up with."

Peter looked horrified and Harry smiled to himself as they entered. He noticed that Peter looked around the post office with curiosity and not confusion.

"I take it owl post was one of the things you learned about in your research?"

"Yes," Peter nodded. "Bonnie explained about how it works."

"Great. That will save us some time." Harry gave him a tour of the place and showed him the different forms and how to choose an owl. "Of course, Hogwarts has plenty of owls that you can use. But since you're older you're free to go down to Hogsmeade anytime you want and you can u se the post owls there. There's a small post office branch there. They have special ones that are really fast or that can carry especially heavy loads. You can also pay for one to wait around for the recipient to respond and bring it back to you right away. Just look at the color code that I gave you. And they have some that are particularly good at finding recipients. You might call them the Hufflepuffs of the owl post." Harry chuckled at his joke but realized that Peter wouldn't know what it meant.

"Any questions?" Harry asked.

"Um… only about a million." Peter responded.

"Well, more where that came from. If there aren't any you're dying to ask right now, I suppose we'll go get your wand. Then we'll do lunch."

He lead Peter around the corner to the rickety building. "Welcome to Ollivander's!" Under his breath he added, "Wandmakers are weird. Just roll with it."

Peter looked apprehensive but followed him into shop.

A wirey man that didn't look much older than Peter came out from an isle in the back and greeted Harry like an old friend.

"Ah Mr. Potter! It's excellent to see you again. The Holly still treating you alright? Excellent. Have you brought another Hogwarts newbie? Ah! Another Weasley? I wasn't aware there were any more redheads awaiting attendance. At least not until Sammy and Jess in about seven years."

"This is Peter Davis. He will be a Phoenix student. He is the son of Fred Weasley. It turns out he was engaged to a muggle woman before… Anyway, we just found him and he's decided to join us at Hogwarts. I'm here giving him the tour and getting all his stuff. I figured no better place to start than a wand!"

"I quite agree Mr. Potter. Mr. Davis – it is a pleasure. I will get you situated. Please wait here while I bring out some for you to try."

Peter looked at Harry, unsure what all had transpired in the last thirty seconds.

"Like I said, wandmakers are weird." Harry said quietly. "Wandmaking is handed down from family to family. His grandfather sold me my wand and the crazy old bastard was still puttering around at 120 until about five years ago. Rumor has it he refused to die until he was sure his grandson would be able to carry on the family business."

"120?"

"Yeah, witches and wizards live longer than muggles. But, just like muggles, some old bats are just too stubborn to die… Anyway, each wand is unique. Wood, core, length, they all add up to a temperament. Wands choose the wizard. You'll know it when you find the right one. And it will grow with you as you learn. Eventually you'll feel like it's an extra limb. It's really quite extraordinary. I took it for granted until mine was broken and I had to use someone else's wand."

"So you can mend wands?"

"Rarely!" Ollivander popped back out from behind the shelves carrying at least 20 boxes. "Mr. Potter is, as always, an exception to the rule."

Peter looked curiously at Harry who said "A story for another time," he winked. "Get on with it."

Peter tried about seven wands. After giving the first a wave and setting fire to a rubbish bin, Ollivander waved his own wand and sent all the remaining boxes flying back to their own shelves. He disappeared and came back with another 20 boxes. After each wave, it seemed Ollivander narrowed down the puzzle until three wands remained.

"Tell me, Mr. Davis, what do you feel when you wield this one?"

"Er…." Peter held the wand and waved it, making the bell on the desk tinkle and break. "Strange. It's hard to describe. Like I'm me but I'm someone else. Kind of like déjà vu."

To Ollivander it seemed to make perfect sense. "In that case," he grabbed the wand back and picked up one of the three boxes, "I suspect that this one will do the trick."

Peter raised an eyebrow but picked up the wand. "Woah…" He waved it and one of the wand boxes turned on it's side and tapped out a small tune before falling halfway down as though it was bowing and then fell back on the counter. "That was… different."

"We've found the one! Aspen and unicorn hair. Excellent for charmwork and dueling. Aspen wands prefer witches and wizards with strong moral fiber and those who fight for the underdog. Unicorn hair wands are very faithful and not easily turned dark. Though not the strongest cores on their own, they bond with their partner for an unbreakable bond that will strengthen overtime with the loyalty of the wizard. I think we can expect very interesting things from you Mr. Davis!"

"Er… thanks.

Peter paid for his wand and Harry took the bag for him. Harry lead Peter out and couldn't help himself but smile at the look of relief on Peter's face as they stepped out into the sunshine. He remembered thinking that the whole experience was weird when he got his wand, and it seemed the apple did not fall far from the tree with Mr. Ollivander the VII.

"So, lunch?" Harry asked Peter.

"Uh, I guess…" Harry showed him around the corner and tried to hurry him down the street before Peter could see the most prominent shop in the whole area. Unfortunately, it seemed Goerge's new firework displays were not to be ignored. "What in the world?"

"That is Weasey's Wizard Weazes. It's a joke shop that was started by Fred and George. Ron has taken over Fred's share of the ownership." Harry stared at his feet. He'd hoped to avoid this. It hadn't been part of the plan.

"Oh… I see." Peter looked at the shop apprehensively. "Are we not going in there?"

"Well, it wasn't part of the plan. I thought… that might be a bit much. I hadn't planned on forcing some kind of a family reunion on you. You only learned about… all that… a fortnight ago. I didn't want to presume how you were feeling or if you'd considered what kind of relationship you'd like to have."

Peter was quiet and eyed the shop with apprehension.

"Look," Harry said stepping closer to Peter, "The Weasleys are my family, and not just because of marriage. They are the best group of people I've ever met and they took me and Hermione in no questions asked even though they already had seven children. They are generous and loving but they are a handful. Very overwhelming. Obviously Ron and George know about you and Ginny knows too, but I don't think anyone else does. George and Ron are up there in the shop right now but they have no idea we're here. If you wanted to go in, they'd be ecstatic. But if it's too much or too soon they'll never be the wiser."

Peter seemed to consider this. Looked like he was on the precipice of making a decision before he went in a different direction. "Wait, you said Hermione? Like Hermione Granger? Do you know her?"

"Yes, she's my best friend and Ron's wife. You've heard of her?" Harry tried to be casual and catch up with the abrupt change in conversation.

"Yeah, she helped write some of the books Bonnie gave me. 'Hogwarts: An Updated History, with a forward and supplemental notes by-"

"Hermione Granger." Harry finished for him, "Yes, she has been quite busy. It's her favorite book. She read it at least twice a year when we were in school. And she took it upon herself to bring to light some of the more… colorful details about the school that the original edition had glossed over. But wait, didn't Bonnie give you her updated version of A History of Magic as well?" If Peter had read that one he wouldn't have been surprised to know that Harry and Hermione knew each other.

"She did but I haven't read it yet. I started but it was a bit overwhelming. Plus I expect we'll cover a lot of it in class."

"Indeed." Harry suppressed a grin at the thought of how disappointed Peter would likely be when he found out how dull Professor Binns' class would turn out to be.

"So she updated that one as well?" Peter asked

"Yes. After the war she did not enjoy the publicity that came with being a part of the 'Golden Trio." Harry grimaced at the name, "I, of course, was used to it. I didn't like it, but it wasn't that new. Ron, actually kind of enjoyed it. I think it was a nice escape for him. It helped distract him a bit from the losses he suffered. But Hermione never really adjusted to the attention. She had her own battles to face and losses to grieve. When she found out that Rita Skeeter was writing a tell-all about me-"

"The Boy Who Lived… and Died and Lived Again." Peter supplied.

"Er, yes. Been reading Skeeter have you?"

"Oh, no. Bonnie told me to steer clear of that one. But I didn't need the warning. I love literature too much to put stock in something with that terrible of a name."

Harry laughed, "Hermione will just love you. It was rather unoriginal, I thought. But when she found out that Skeeter had taken it upon herself to write a version of the second war and my struggles, Hermione was livid and decided to put all of her energy into putting out a better version before Skeeter's." Harry thought fondly of the fire that he'd seen in his friend and the pride and relief he'd felt too. Hermione had the most trouble adjusting after the battle and she seemed to be a shell of herself. But leave it to Skeeter to bring back the friend that had been hiding. "She didn't want all the attention of an autobiography but wanted to correct some of the assumptions and attitudes that Bathilda Bagshot had originally written. She just added to the original edition. Miracle she got it done in time too. It launched two weeks before Skeeter's and made a much bigger splash. Stole her thunder you could say." He had seen Hermione work tirelessly before. O.W.L.s, Hippogriff trial research, and Horcrux investigation had had nothing on Hermione's work with the book. He couldn't remember her seeming more alive or get less sleep.

"Well anyway," Harry broke the silence, "Lunch then?" He made to move off in the other direction.

Peter shuffled. "I s'pose it wouldn't hurt to say a quick hello…" He said it so softly that Harry wasn't sure he'd heard him right.

"Are you sure? You don't have to. That wasn't reason I brought you to Diagon Alley. There will be plenty of time in the future…"

"Yes." Peter seemed surer of himself. "Let's do it."

"Alright well you can't say I didn't warn you! And not just about the Weasleys. Going into the shop for the first time is like stepping into a kaleidoscope."

Harry lead him across the street and opened the door for him. The blinding lights and sounds assaulted his senses. It was packed as always. He steered Peter to the corner where the tamest of the joke products were housed. "Look around. I'll go upstairs and get them."

Harry waved hello to the witch at the counter and made his way to the fifth floor of the shop where the offices were. He pushed the door open.

George had his feet up on the desk and was listening to a Quidditch broadcast while eating a sandwich. He turned the volume dial up over the sound of Ron shouting. "Oi Ron, shut up. It's tied."

"-AND IF I EVER LEARN OF YOU DOING ANYTHING LIKE IT AGAIN I'LL – Oh bullocks now I'll have to start again." He stopped shouting, "Hey Harry what are you doing here?"

"Who's the howler for?"

"Dung. I gave him some of our testing products and he… Well I won't give you any details. It's better you don't know…"

"Whatever you say," Harry laughed.

"AND THERE GOES THE SEASON." George banged on the desk and turned off the radio. "Hey Harry, what brings you in today? Babysitting another first year?"

"Yeah. Thought we'd come say hello." Harry scratched the back of his neck nervously. "It's Peter."

George and Ron were silent. Then a look of sheer joy erupted over Ron's face. "Blimey Harry, why didn't you warn me you were coming today?"

"Well I hadn't intended to bring him by. I didn't want him to feel pressure. It was his idea after he saw the shop. He seemed pretty nervous but said it wouldn't hurt to say hello."

George looked green. "He's… here? He knows I'm here? And he wants to meet me?"

"Supposedly. He's downstairs poking around in the 'Hogwarts Approved' section."

Ron rolled his eyes. "What an idiotic idea. Only time I've been able to pull an I told you so over Hermione." George and Ron had vehemently refused to invest any money in a line of joke supplies that wouldn't offend Filch. _If they don't cause mass hysteria, what's even the point?_ George had argued. Ultimately Hermione had invested her own money for the R&D and had refused to talk about the subject ever since finding out the sales had been dismal.

"Well, shall we?" Harry held the door open. George looked like he might faint but nodded and followed Ron down the stairs.

. . .

"Peter, you remember Ron?" Harry finally found him. He'd drifted over to the joke snacks section of the first floor.

Ron almost tackled him into a great big hug. Harry groaned.

"I… yes. Good to see you." Peter straightened his tee shirt. He looked at George and extended his hand. "And you must be George."

"Yes, that's me" George sputtered. Harry thought to himself that he'd never seen George nervous. He and Fred had always been the most casual of the Weasley bunch, followed closely by Ginny. It took a lot to shake any of them.

George and Peter simply stared at each other. Ron looked between them excitedly. Finally George cleared his throat and said, "a tour then?"


	6. Peaking in High School

Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter. I just de-stress by writing about it.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Peaking in High School**

**Peter**

Overall the visit to the joke shop had been nice. It was awkward, as Peter had expected it to be, but it was nice that the initial introduction was done. It was odd, he thought, being introduced to your biological father's identical twin. Didn't that sort of make George his dad too? After all didn't identical twins share the same DNA? He decided not to dwell on it.

George had been nice. He was clearly very proud of his shop. And Peter had had felt he had good reason to. He'd never been particularly into pranks and joke products, but he supposed he'd have felt differently as a child if he'd had access to these. Magic was, he thought, very fun. He and George had kept things neutral and casual, not acknowledging the heritage they shared. He asked a few questions about what Peter had been studying at University and if he was looking forward to Hogwarts.

Ron and Harry had stayed with them and, though they were involved in the conversation, their participation had been subdued. Peter had seen Harry kick or glare at Ron a few times and suspected the latter was on strict behavior to appear more casual than he had that day in his apartment.

After an hour or so a warm woman named Angelina had swooped in and kissed George on the cheek. She introduced herself and gave Peter a warm but short hug. She smiled at him warmly but did not linger. She casually requested George's help upstairs and pointedly asked Ron if he'd finished the howler. Ron had complained that there was still so much to catch up on and they could certainly skive off one afternoon. Angelina insisted and told Peter just how lovely it was to meet him and pulled the two red haired men back upstairs. Peter suspected that Angelina may have come to end their visit. He was grateful. He was glad to have spent some time with Ron and George but it was overwhelming.

"So, should we get that lunch?" Harry interrupted Peter's thoughts.

"Yes, I am starting to get a bit hungry."

Lunch with Harry was nice. He found that he really like Harry. He had an odd casualness about him that made Peter feel like he could ask a million questions or sit in silence for the rest of the day and either would be just fine. Harry seemed very suited to the task of introducing new students to the wizarding world, he thought. He asked Harry about his first trip to Diagon Alley and how he'd found out he was a wizard.

He greatly enjoyed hearing Harry reminisce about how he'd entered the world. He thought he understood why McGonagall had paired the two of them. Both came from famous families but had not grown up knowing about the wizarding world. It was an odd thing to not only find out about abilities you didn't know you had, but that you came from a legacy that was the stuff movies are made out of.

"Was it hard to live up to everyone's expectations?" Peter asked him.

Harry considered him. "The short answer is yes. For the first few years I was just so busy adjusting to the wizarding world that I didn't pay much attention. Everyone stared at me and that was weird but I ignored it. It was too overwhelming to come face to face with my 'legacy.' Once I learned more about my parents that just made things more complicated. But by that point I was locked in a war with Voldemort and I didn't really have the luxury of contemplating things like that. I was too busy just trying to survive."

Peter wasn't sure what to say. The fate of the world was a heavy weight for a 17 year old.

"Honestly, it wasn't until after the war that I started to struggle with the idea of what I was supposed to be. At first it was all funerals and weddings and trials for Death Eaters. Hermione went back to Hogwarts and Ron and I became aurors. It's all we'd ever wanted to do and it seemed like the easiest choice. Ron only lasted about two years before joining George at the joke shop. He was much happier there.

"People had been telling me what to do my whole life. By the time I turned 15 I'd seen my classmate murdered and was waging war against my own government to convince them that I wasn't a madman. By 16 one of the only parental figures I'd known had died and I learned that it was ultimately up to me to stop the horrors of the dark arts movement. It took some time for me to realize that Dumbledore had really planned out my entire adolescence. For better or for worse. He was a great man and he did what he thought was best, but now that I have children I think I'd do some things differently…

"Anyway after almost 20 years of blindly and numbly climbing the ranks at the Ministry I realized that was tired and bored. Not that I think hunting dark wizards isn't important. I just realized…"

"That maybe you'd done a lifetime's worth of it?" Peter supplied

Harry laughed. "Yes, something like that. The part I liked about being an auror was never the chase. It was the opportunity to study the dark arts and what it was that attracted people to them. I'd rarely felt truly powerless in my life and it was hard to imagine wanting to go to such lengths for power or feeling as though there was no other option to protect my loved ones. The more I talked to dark wizards and witches we brought in, the more I realized how many of their choices could have been avoided by different education. Nature versus nurture and all that. Plus, as you said, I was tired. That kind of work takes a toll. If there's one thing muggles have a leg up on it's mental health. We can regrow every bone in the body in 24 hours but we don't acknowledge that emotional injuries are just as detrimental. You'd think that after seeing my classmates murdered in front of me, dying and coming back to life, and then killing the greatest dark wizard of all time that someone would have recommended that I see a therapist. But alas, it was at least five years before Hermione forced me at wandpoint into a muggle therapist's office.

"So one day I'd finally had enough and I retired from the auror's office. I took some time off and worked on some personal projects. Finally McGonagall offered my the position and I've been very happy ever since."

Peter considered all of this. He might normally have been horrified that a person who was essentially a stranger had word vomited all of his deepest feelings. Brits were, after all, solidly in the "bury your feelings until you die" camp. But for some reason it felt nice to be opened up to. He wasn't really sure what to say so, again, he settled for the least important question. "What do you teach then?"

"Defensive Magic. It used to be called Defense Against the Dark Arts. We've changed the curriculum. In addition to learning dueling and basic offensive and defensive magic, we also teach the dark arts portion of History of Magic, elemental wand safety, and some other things. Less of an emphasis on not being killed by bad guys and more of a focus on understanding your own magic and general preparedness."

"Elemental wand safety?" Peter laughed. It seemed so normal and "Driver's Ed" that it was comical when not twenty minutes before his head had been turned into a canary head at the joke shop.

Harry chuckled. "Yes, some felt that it needed a revival. General wand care and maintenance as well as safety tips to not blow one's buttock off."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "That happens?"

"So say the rumors…"

The waiter brought their lunch. Peter had been relieved that the menu was normal. He had been afraid that witches and wizards ate weird things. But it appeared they liked all the same British comfort foods he'd grown accustomed to.

"So," Peter said, "Can you tell me about the other classes at Hogwarts?"

Harry told him about Transfiguration and Charms which sounded very intriguing. The idea of turning one thing into another or charming something to have particular abilities was very cool. He thought about the ragtag two door sedan in the drive at his parent's house and immediately conjured up an image of a bright yellow Lambroghini. He supposed there would be a lot he'd have to learn in order to accomplish something like that.

"Professor Flitwick is great. He's been there as long as anyone can remember. He taught me. McGonagall used to teach Transfiguration before she became Headmistress. Sometimes she'll step in and teach a lesson here or there. Professor Windley is pretty good. Just about as strict as McGonagall but the students seem to like her fine.

"And you'll have Neville Longbottom for Herbology. He was in my year and he's one of my best mates. He's always loved magical plants. It's a pretty cool class for those that appreciate it. I have to say I never did in school but I've come to appreciate it now. So many remedies can be had from simple plants without brewing any potions. I was never any good at Potions to tell the truth so it was in my best interest to learn alternate methods.

Draco Malfoy teaches Potions these days. He was also in my year. We were rivals all through school. I think it's hard to say which of us hated the other more. But after the war both of our egos deflated a bit. Plus once he started working with Hermione on R&D I had to be civil."

"R&D?" Peter asked curiously.

"Yes, well the magical world has always been a bit set in its ways. When muggles invented electricity it was only a few hundred years after all of the witch trials. Most witches and wizards harbored deep resentment from those trying times in our history. Plus, it takes a great deal of effort to get electrical devices to work in magical settings. Truth be told, electricity is just another form of magic that muggles happened to figure out how to make work without magical powers. The workarounds they came up with to harness that power don't' play well with highly magically rich environments. Anyway, witches and wizards were stubborn and just kept doing things the way they'd always done them. After all, electricity barely scratched the surface of the powers wizards in those days were capable of doing. It wasn't until very recently that muggle technology started to compete with our spells. Malfoy had been working with a pharmaceutical company to find ways to transfer magical knowledge into muggle remedies. He went into healer training after finishing his schooling and became very accomplished. After his wife passed away from cancer I think he felt helpless enough to start working with muggles."

"Wait, you guys don't have a cure for cancer?" Peter was amazed. That seemed like something that would be easy.

"Unfortunately, no. Same with most autoimmune diseases and dementia. There are some things we don't understand either. But as she suffered through magical and muggle treatments alike, Malfoy became fascinated by the remedies muggles had developed. He was horrified at the things that muggles were dying from that we can cure easily and economically. I think after Astoria passed he wanted to ensure that no one else would ever have to feel the pain he felt. But don't tell him I said that. He'd kick my ass for suggesting something so sentimental."

Peter considered this. He'd known enough friends lose someone to know how grief can change your world view.

"Anyway, he did incredible work. He'd only revealed himself as a wizard to one researcher and they decided to work together to find the commonalities between muggle and magical remedies. In many cases they found each group had been treating the exact same way. Only the muggles called it chemistry and we call it magic."

Peter thought this all seemed very fascinating. He thought he could listen to someone talk about the logistics of magic forever and never get bored. It was only then that he realized he actually was excited to be going to Hogwarts.

"Magic's just science that we don't understand yet." Peter quoted the science fiction author he'd always liked.

Harry chuckled. "I've heard that quote before. That's essentially the idea behind the Magical Research and Development Department at the Ministry of Magic. Hermione founded it about 10 years ago after buying her first computer. She decided that there had to be a way we could integrate muggle technology into our magical developments. Also, we wanted to find ways to share our knowledge with muggles in a way that they would understand. Hermione, especially, felt that it was criminal to let muggles suffer the lack of technological advances just because of the Statute of Secrecy.

"Malfoy joined here as head of the Medical-Healing Division. A year ago he decided to apply for the open Positions position. He still works part time at the Ministry as a consultant and does significant work there over the summer."

"So does everyone decide to awkwardly prolong their youth by teaching at their old high school?"

Harry laughed, "I suppose some of us feel like we peaked at 16. But I think it's more that Malfoy, Neville, and I had fairly absurd and terrible experiences as students. You could say we didn't have the best guidance. I think we all feel like we have a responsibility to help educate the next generation. Plus, Malfoy couldn't wait to follow in Gryffindor footsteps." Harry winked at him.

"I sense a bit of a rivalry there." Peter chuckled.

"Oh you have no idea. Malfoy and I are friendly these days but that all goes out the window on Quidditch match days."

Harry delved into a very detailed description of the sport which Peter decided not to admit sounded very dangerous albeit illogical. He didn't understand the point system with the snitch but Harry was far too excited for him to burst his bubble.

After lunch Harry told him more about Hogwarts and the other classes he could expect. Overall it was a very nice afternoon and Peter felt a lot better about the whole situation. He still felt very overwhelmed but it was more a curious than terrified overwhelmness now. Before they said their goodbyes outside of the Leaky Cauldron Harry asked if Peter needed instructions or help on September 1st. Peter explained that he'd made plans to meet up with Bonnie who would get him on the platform.

Harry smiled a bit too knowingly for his taste but he decided to ignore it.

Once Harry had disappeared around the corner Peter pulled out his phone and replied to Bonnie's text message.

_How was it?_

_Wild. But good._

_Can't wait to hear about it on the train._

_Want to hear about it sooner?_

* * *

That's it for now! Thanks for reading if you made it this far! I have a lot more ideas but I haven't decided if I'm going to write more. Let me know if you'd be into it. :)


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